


{Untitled}

by wibblywobblymess



Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: F/M, I cant believe im saying this but i forgot, Magnus is a tit, OFC gets shot, Overuse of the word "tit", Sex, van sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 22,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4879279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblywobblymess/pseuds/wibblywobblymess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(I am warning you, I'm the shittiest at summaries)</p><p>Magnus and Fi meet when she comes to the station to update the systems; but work turns into drinks turns into dinner. </p><p>OF course, it can never stay so easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The van hummed as she shoved it into park against the curb. Music flowed out of the speakers around her, her fingers flipping her pen across the top of the clipboard. She hated making office calls, hated going around to update the systems. But here she was, parked outside the station, peering over her shoulders at the boxes of computers, wires, and accessories.

“I’m going to whip your ass, Stevens, if you are not there tomorrow…” she grumbled, shaking her head, and killing the engine.

                With a heavy sigh, she clipped the keys onto one of her belt loops, rested the clipboard in the crook of her arm, and hopped out of the van, moving up towards the station. Her fingers caught the door as it swung open, a smile forming on her lips as a few officers stepped out.

“Ma’am,” they said, bowing their heads.

“Gentlemen,” she replied, nodding as they passed, before slipping inside.

                It took her a few minutes to find a free officer to lead her further into the station, and she looked around as they walked, curious. Finally, the officer stopped, glancing at her, before rapping his knuckles on an office door in front of her.

“Just a moment,” he told her, before ducking into the office.

“Take your time…” she answered, shifting and turning to look around her.

Several of the desks in the pen had someone at them, but only one person seemed even aware she was in the room. Not that she minded – she typically preferred to go unnoticed, at least while she was working. Her face flushed when she caught the eyes of the one person looking over at her, and a small, reflexive smile tugged the corner of her mouth up as she turned towards the office behind her.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Lisa Holgersson, I’m the Chief of Police. You must be…”

“Fiona…Fiona Langston. I’m here to do the updates to the system,” Fiona replied, extending her hand towards Lisa. With a smile, Lisa took her hand, shaking it before releasing, and taking hold of the clipboard Fiona held towards her. “I just want to make sure that…that this is what I need to do.” Lisa smiled again, and scanned the board, flipping the paper up to see all of it.

“…this looks good. And then when you’re finished…”

“I’ll have you sign off…after you make sure things are the way you want them, of course,” Fiona added, smiling. “Just…show me where to start.”

                For a moment, Lisa glanced around the pen, seeing who was and was not working, before glancing over her shoulder, and shrugging.

“How about the few empty computers, since…well…they’re empty?” Fiona giggled, and nodded. “And while you do those, I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re here, so they can move to another computer when you’re ready for theirs.”

“Thank you, Lisa…I’m going to go grab my things, and I’ll be right back up.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“Several…but one set will do,” Fiona admitted, blushing as Lisa pointed towards someone behind her.

“Magnus? Would you help Fiona bring her things up? She’s going to update the computer system,” Lisa said, as the curly blonde haired, blue eyed man Fiona had locked eyes with a few moments prior hopped from his seat, and walked up to them.

“Oh, sure. Um…if Kurt shows up, though…”

“I know. I’ll handle him, no worries. Thank you,” Lisa replied, ducking back into her office. Fiona moved towards an empty desk, laying her clipboard down beneath the keyboard, before walking back out towards her van.

“Magnus, is it?”

“Yes…Fiona?”

“Right. Um, thank you, for coming to help me. I usually don’t come out of the office, to be honest,” Fiona chuckled, shaking her head as she raised the keys to unlock the back doors of the van.

“It’s no problem. Not really doing anything at the moment, anyway.”

                Magnus pulled the doors open as she let the key drop to her thigh, and took her hand, supporting her as she climbed into the back of the van. Her fingers gripped the trolley cart, and she turned, handing the folded up metal flat on wheels to Magnus, smiling slightly as he snapped it, and opened it up.

“What do you normally do, if you don’t mind my asking, if you don’t come out of the office?” Magnus asked, locking the wheels as she started moving boxes around.

“Oh…um, honestly, usually I just sit in my office with my feet on my desk until someone comes in…and then I start doing my actual work, which is just reviewing other peoples’ work…I’m a supervisor anymore. Haven’t been in the field in almost a year,” Fiona told him, hoisting a box against her hip, and turning to pass it to Magnus.

“You know, saying it like that makes it sound like you’re a cop.” A laugh passed her lips, and she blushed, turning away from him.

“My father used to be…my brother is…I almost was. It is sort of habit, I think,” she told him, peering over to be sure he’d put the box down before handing him another.

“Where at?”

“London. That’s where I’m from…I moved out here for school, and…just never left,” Fiona laughed.

“Why anyone would want to move out here from London…” he started, shaking his head, as he took another box, and then another, stacking them on the trolley cart.

“Because it’s not home…and there’s no risk of running into people you once knew. Here is a fresh start, and a new life,” Fiona explained, handing him one last box, leaving several in the back, against the seats, and stepping to the edge of the back of the van. Magnus turned, and reached up, one hand taking her hand, the other cupping against her hip, as her free hand landed on his shoulder, and he helped her off the back of the van, smiling at her cheeks burned pink. “…thank you, Magnus.”

“My pleasure. Do you need to…to tie these down or anything?” he asked, motioning to the boxes behind him. She shook her head, running her hand through her hair, before she realized he still hand her other hand in his.

“…Magnus?”

“Sorry,” he said, realizing it, too, and lowering his hand.

“…it’s quite alright. Um…no, as long as I don’t try to run around like a madwoman with the cart, everything should stay as it is.”

                Magnus snickered, shaking his head, as he made sure her keys were still dangling from her hip before he closed the van doors, and followed her back up to the station. She couldn’t stop the smile on her face, as he opened the doors for her, straightened the boxes on the trolley cart, and helped her lock the wheels once she reached the desk she’d left her clipboard on.

“Anything else I can do?”

“…I don’t think so. Thank you for helping with this, I’m really…I’m a little rusty.”

“Did you get everything you needed?” Lisa asked, tugging her jacket over her shoulders as she approached them.

“I think so. Now…I trust my technicians, they do wonderful work quickly. And I’m good at what I do – but I take longer, because I haven’t done this in a while, and I need to be certain I do it right before I move on.”

“That’s fine, I would prefer it done slow and right, than quick and wrong,” Lisa insisted, smiling. Fiona couldn’t help the color that formed in her cheeks as she shifted, and nodded “I have to run out. If you need anything, any one of the officers here can help you. Even Magnus,” she chuckled, motioning to Magnus as he stood beside her.

“If he’s not busy, he’ll probably be the first I’ll ask,” Fiona told them, shooting a quick glance towards Magnus as he smiled his approval.

“Fine by me,” he replied, making her smile and looking back to Lisa.

“Wonderful. I’ll be back in a little bit,” Lisa said, nodding at them both, and walking out of the station. Fiona unhooked her keys from her belt, dropping them onto the desk, as she made her way around the desk, looking at the system. Color filled her cheeks as she jumped at the ringing of his phone, and he chuckled, flipping it open.

“Martinsson…oh, yeah. Give me a minute, I’ll call you back.”

“Have to get back to work?”

“Yeah…If you need me, Fiona, I’ll be at my desk, alright?” he asked, looking up at her as he put his phone away.

“Okay…thank you, Magnus. I do appreciate it.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

       The station had mostly cleared out, by the time Fiona reached one of the offices. She had rested the trolley cart near the couch and dropped a box of cables and wires next to the desk. She was under the desk, her feet up on the chair, staring at the wires in her hands, when she heard the door open.

“…Fiona? Are you still in here?”

“Magnus?” He chuckled, and she twisted a little, peering out to see his feet pass the trolley cart.

“Where are you?”

“Under the desk…I’m really glad you’re here, can you reach that blue cord on the desk? Or…I hope it’s on the desk.” With another chuckle, Magnus stepped up to the desk, and she heard the scraping as he picked it up, and dangled it under the desk.

“This?’

“Yes, yes, thank you,” she laughed, lifting herself up just enough to reach it. “I don’t know why I didn’t bring it down here when I was plugging things in, but damn it,” she chuckled, and dropped back on the floor as Magnus crouched down by her feet.

Fiona lowered her feet, nudging the chair out of the way, as she twisted to plug the cable in to the back of the computer, before rolling onto her back again, and plugging the other end into the router that was connected to the back of the desk. She let her hands fall to the floor, and raised a brow when she realized Magnus was still watching her.

“…what’s on your mind, Magnus?”

“Just wondering how many more computers you planned to update tonight…” Fiona rolled her head to see him, before raising a hand to see her watch, and sighing.

“None. I told Lisa about an hour ago that I’d probably have to come in tomorrow…or…have my tech come in tomorrow. Though he’ll put my speed to shame, I assure you,” she laughed, shaking her head, and slipping out from beneath the desk, sitting up and raising her eyes to look at Magnus. He smiled, and hopped to his feet, holding a hand out for her.

“Then give him the day off, come out again.” Fiona raised a brow as she took his hand, and climbed to her feet, before tilting her head, peering up at him – not hard to do, considering he was a few inches taller than her.

“Are you gettin’ sweet on me, Martinsson?”

“What?” he asked, widening his eyes as he blushed. Fiona chuckled, and gave his hand a squeeze as she let go of him.

“I said…are you getting sweet on me?”

“No, no, no, I…well…” Fiona smiled, unable to help herself, as she patted her hand on his chest, and stepped around him for the box of cables.

“It’s okay, if the answer is yes. Why’d you want to know how many more I had to do?”

“Was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink?”

“Yes. Yes, I would like to.” Magnus chuckled, and picked up her clipboard from the desk, before pausing.

“Did you need to check this computer? Make sure it works?”

“…yeah…”

                Tossing the box onto the trolley cart, Fiona lowered her body into the desk chair, crossing her legs as she flipped it on, and leaned back to wait for it to load. As she waited, Magnus stepped up behind her, and leaned against the chair, smiling down at her.

“You’re staring at me.”

“I can’t help it. You’re rather…lovely.”

“You don’t even know me, Magnus,” she replied, rolling her head back on her shoulders to see him, before blushing again, and looking back at the screen.  He didn’t say anything, merely shrugged, as her fingers slowly tapped on the keyboard, before she paused, and sighed. “…password?”

“Got it,” he said, leaning down until his shoulder was against the back of her head, draping his arms around her and clicking the keys to log into the computer. “…there we go.”

                Shifting, Fiona took a slow, silent breath, smiling at the cologne he wore, before smiling gratefully, and turning back to the computer.

“…thank you.” He smiled back at her, and pulled back, but only a little, as she clicked around his computer, checking the speed, checking the connection, and checking the servers. He watched as she checked everything, before shutting it down, and turning the chair, nudging her knee against Magnus’ thigh.

“Yes?”

“I believe you offered me a drink. Care to follow me back to my office, so I can drop off their van, and pick up my car?”

“I can do that…anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“Your call, Magnus…” Magnus smirked, crinkling the corners of his eyes, as he reached for her hands to help her stand.

“Then I’ll follow you…and you can follow me.”

“Sounds good.”

                The bar was packed, even though it was only Wednesday night, as Magnus and Fiona wound their way to the bar, and then to a table against the wall.

“I didn’t realize there would be so many people…Sorry,” he chuckled, as she waved her hand with a smile.

“It’s alright. Well…I mean…what on earth would get so many people to drink on a Wednesday? Half the week is over, only two nights until Friday. Wouldn’t you wait? Get gassed then?” Magnus laughed softly, and hooked an arm around her as she slid closer, to be able to hear him.

“So tell me, Fiona…”

“Fi.”

“What?”

“You can call me Fi!” she called over the music, making them both laugh softly as he took a drink, and she took a sip.

“Fi, then!”

                The conversation hadn’t even begun when the music seemed to get louder, and Fiona flinched, rubbing at her ear. Taking another swig of his drink, Magnus gave her shoulder a squeeze, and motioned towards the door.

“Would you rather go for a walk?” he called, and she nodded, swigging from her glass, before slipping out of the booth with him.

His hand found hers, keeping her with him as he led the way out of the bar. As soon as they stepped outside, Magnus released her hand, and slid his arm around her shoulders again. It made Fiona blush, but she stuffed both hands into her pockets, peering down at her feet.

“You know…Magnus…you act…like you know me.” He raised a brow, and peered down as she shrugged. “The arm around my shoulders, constantly reaching for my hand. Have we met? I mean…before today?” There was a laugh on his lips that made her stop, and raise her head to meet his gaze.

“You honestly don’t know?”

“Know what, Magnus? Any normal person would be left to assume we don’t know each other, considering we introduced ourselves just this morning.”

“Not exactly…I made sure your name was Fiona, you didn’t really introduce yourself, I’m surprised that you don’t remember.” Fiona groaned, and frowned.

“Remember  _what,_ Magnus? Come on, don’t make me force it out of you.”

                A smirk formed on his lips as he bowed his head towards hers, watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried to figure it out.

“…let’s see if this will jog your memory…” he murmured, before pressing his lips against hers, and making her squeak in surprise. It took all of five seconds before the surprise was replaced by confusion, and then by surprise again, but a gentler surprise, as she closed her eyes, and laid both of her hands on either side of his face, letting the feel of his lips overtake her.


	3. Chapter 3

 

                Their lips remained together for a moment, before Magnus was sure she remembered, and pulled away, nudging his nose against hers. She struggled slightly, to catch her breath, as her hands slid to his chest, and she slowly reopened her eyes. His eyes, blue in the shaded lights, scanned hers, a smile forming when he saw what he was looking for.

“…oh my god.”

“You remember?”

“I remember you  _now_ ,” she murmured, a soft, sheepish laugh passing her rosy lips. “No wonder you seemed so sweet on me…”

“It’s because I was sweet on you the last time we met, too.”

“A blind date…” Her teeth caught her bottom lip, and she pushed herself up on her toes, running her hands lightly over his hair. That made him laugh, and bow his head for her, lifting it as her fingers met his neck.

“A blind date…and you were supposed to call me the next morning, and you never did.” Fiona felt her face burn and she leaned in, dotting a kiss on his cheek.

“I meant to…I really did…I even tried…” she said softly, moving to press a kiss on his other cheek. “But someone punched your number wrong into my phone when they added it to contacts.”

“…you put my number into your phone, Fi…”

“I  _know_ ,” she groaned, thumping back on her heels to look up at him as he snickered. “And I couldn’t remember what you told me, all I had was a wrong number…”

“Good going.”

“I kicked myself  _every day_ , because I had no idea how to get in touch with you. I am so sorry, Magnus.” He hooked his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him, smiling as she hugged him back.

“It’s alright. You found me now.”

“And forgot…” she whispered softly.

“Everyone forgets. But at least you remembered,” Magnus reminded her, dotting a kiss on her forehead as he pulled back. “Now…I promised you a drink…so why don’t we…just go to my flat? I’ll put my number in your phone this time, before we start drinking…and make you call me to be sure it’s right.” Laughing, she slid her arm around his waist, and nodded.

“I think I’d like that.”

*

                Magnus rolled over, groaning softly, as he swatted at his phone to stop the ringing. With a sigh, he stood, and shuffled towards the bathroom, rubbing his hand over his short blond curls. The ringing sounded again, but he shrugged it off, nudging the door closed and flipping on the light. After a couple of minutes, he dried his hands, and made his way back out of the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes. The fabric caught him, causing him to stumble a few steps, as he looked down, frowning at the sight of the lacy green bra on the floor.

“…the fuck?” For a moment, he forgot about the night before. In fact, until he picked it up, and walked into his room again, he couldn’t figure out where it was from.  

                And then he saw Fiona, curled up in his bed, the blanket draped across her waist and tucked beneath her chest, baring her back to him as she faced the wall. He looked at her for a moment, before smiling, and climbing onto the bed, tossing her bra back to the floor, and slipping an arm beneath the blanket and around her waist. Fiona inhaled sharply, opening her eyes at the touch, before rolling her head as Magnus kissed her shoulder.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

“Magnus…hi,” she blushed, smiling.

“Did you sleep alright?” Fiona peered down at herself, as she rolled to face him, and nodded, nestling her head against his pillow.

“I slept great…the bed, the pillow, your arm – so comfortable,” she laughed, as he pulled her closer, and hugged her lightly.

“I’m glad, Fi.” Before he could say more, the phone began to ring again, and he sighed, shifting to pick it up. “…Martinsson…alright…I’ll be in shortly.” He sighed, though, as he shut his phone, and looked over at her.

“Probably for the best,” Fiona admitted softly. “I need to go in, too.” Magnus bowed his head, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, sliding his fingers through her hair to brush it off her neck before he pulled back.

“Then I suppose…I’ll see you at the station?” She giggled, and bit her lip, shrugging.

“I don’t know…can I see your phone?”

                Magnus handed it to her, watching as she rolled onto her back to dial, and hold the phone to her opposite ear. He couldn’t help it – he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to her neck, smirking at the whimper that sounded.

“…uh…hey, Carter, this is Fiona…is…um…is Stevens in today?” Her eyes fluttered, and she pulled the mic from her lips as Magnus flicked his tongue over her clavicle, and up her neck to her ear. “…I’m sorry…what did you say?” she asked, swatting at him as she bit upon her bottom lip. “Alright…alright, thanks, Carter…I’ll be in soon…bye…” As soon as she closed the phone, she dropped it onto the nightstand, sliding her arm around his neck and pulling him towards her. “Damn it, Magnus.”

“I’m sorry, you just looked too…perfect,” he murmured, raising his head to catch her mouth with his. She sighed into the kiss, running the fingers of her other hand through his hair, flicking her tongue against his as she pulled back.

“Magnus, we have to go to work,” Fiona whimpered, as he chuckled, kissed her again, and nodded.

“I know…I know. Alright…um…can I buy you dinner tonight?” he asked, moving to sit up, and plucking her bra off the floor for her.

“Yes…yes you can,” Fiona replied, smiling and leaning over to kiss his cheek as she sat up. “And since Stevens isn’t coming in today…I’ll see you at the station after I pick up the van.”

“I will try to keep my hands off you.”

“It’s both our jobs – you better succeed. Do or do not. There is no try.” Magnus snickered, snaking his arm around her as he kissed her shoulder.

“And what do I get if I can keep my hands off you?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Alright. I will keep my hands off you while we’re on the clock, if you can keep your hands off of me.”

“…sounds easy enough,” Fiona teased, pressing a kiss on his forehead as she climbed off the bed, and tugged her clothes on.

“Good luck,” he smirked.

                Magnus went to the station after dressing, and upon arriving, went straight to work with the other detectives on the floor. He didn’t even see Fiona arrive, her hair in curls around her face, dressed in a dark red sweater, knee-length leather skirt and knee-high matching leather boots. She ducked into Lisa’s office, smiling sheepishly as she waved.

“Sorry I’m late – I had…quite a mess to deal with at home this morning, and then another one at work. But, I am here, and I promise, I’ll get the rest of the computers updated before…well, hoping for before lunch, but definitely before this evening.” Lisa chuckled, and waved her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Fiona. Take your time. Honest.”

With a more confident smile, Fiona nodded, and headed back out of Lisa’s office, biting at her lip as she moved towards Magnus’ desk. He had started working as soon as he came in, but as she stepped up to him, she saw him signing a paper, and closing the file in his hands.

“Magnus?” He jumped, and lifted his head, smiling at her.

“Hey, Fi.”

“Are you busy?”

“Do you need help bringing things in?”

“Just a few,” she replied, biting her lip again and raising a brow.

“I got a few minutes…come on.” He stood up, and nudged his chair back in, before turning to face her, and stopping.

Fiona could feel his eyes on her, scanning her from head to toe, as he gulped, and forced his hands into the pockets of his jeans. But he didn’t say anything, as she walked ahead of him, around the corner, down the steps, and out the front door of the station. Not until she cracked open the back doors of the van did he even remove his hands from his pockets, and that was to help her up.

“Damn it, Fi.”

“Hm?” she replied, as though oblivious, as she slid the trolley cart out from behind a few boxes. Smirking, Magnus climbed up with her, standing barely an inch behind her. Fiona stopped, well aware he was there, and tilted her head to see him.

“You really want to win this, don’t you?”

“I’m just…testing your resolve, Magnus…” His hands went up on either side of her, pressing against the cool metal of the van, as she turned, leaving the cart so she could face him.

“I can hold out much longer than you can, Fi. And no amount of dressing so sexy will change that.” Fi pushed herself up, her lips near his but not on his, as she exhaled, and smirked.

“I thought you were going to help me unload…the van.”

“Just get the cart, darling,” he said, tilting his head and blowing a cool breath across her ear before pulling back, and hopping down. She bit her lip, and swallowed a groan, as she slid the cart towards him.

“This is going to be fun…"


	4. Chapter 4

 

                It was hell for Magnus. Every time he looked up, not to find Fiona, but rather to see the clock on the wall, to see who else was in the room, to find out who had said his name, he wound up seeing her, bent over a desk, or lying upon the floor. If she knew he was looking, that only made it worse – at least, if she knew while she was lying under the desk.

                As Fiona worked, she realized there were less computers than she thought that needed to be finished, so after doing a few upstairs, she went down to the lobby with a box in her hands, updating the computer behind the front desk. As she finished, she looked towards the steps, shrugged, and headed back to the van to put the now empty box into the crate with the other empty, folded boxes.

                Her knees brushed the cold metal of the van floor as she scooted in, and stuck the small folded box in her hands into the crate. A small smirk played on her lips as she closed her eyes, thinking of the look on Magnus’ face before she came downstairs. She had been on the floor, wiring the last computer, her skirt tucked around her legs so no one got a view beneath it. But Magnus was straight ahead, with a perfect view of her legs from his chair, and she knew it, and couldn’t help it. With a smirk, Fiona had shifted, raised a knee up, so Magnus could just barely see her lacy pink panties beneath the brown leather skirt. Fiona was certain he would have pounced, by the look on his face, had he not been at work.

                A gasp passed her lips as the doors closed behind her, and hands grabbed her hips roughly.

“Hey! What the fu-“ She was quieted by a single, large hand covering her mouth, as his lips pressed against her ear through her curls.

“Fuck is right, Fi. God damn it, I thought we were going to play fair, and you are up there flashing your ass at me?” Magnus growled, pressing his chest against her back, smirking at the groan that passed her lips. “I just took lunch…and I’m gonna make you wish you’d played fair.”

                Every inch of her body burned with want for him, as he uncovered her mouth, and scooted back just enough to hike her skirt up. His eyes scanned the back of the van, and he reached out, grabbing a box to push in front of her.

“Bend over.”

“Magnus?”

“Do it.” With a whimper, and a breathy moan, Fiona wiggled her hips, leaning over the box as he asked. His hands nudged her knees apart, before moving towards his zipper.

                No sooner had he pressed his tip against her already slick opening, did the phone still mounted to his belt begin to ring. He groaned, clamping his eyes shut, as he ignored it, fumbling with the buttons to silence it. After all, he was on lunch – all he wanted was Fiona. His fingers gripped her hips, guiding his erect member just inside of her, both groaning, moaning at the feeling, when it rang again.

“Fucking hell, stop ringing,” he grumbled, silencing it again as he continued to push into Fiona. Her hands gripped the box, her head dropped, and she bit down upon her bottom lip, trying to contain the gasps, the whimpers, that were like heaven to Magnus’ ears. With a grunt, he stopped, halfway in, and bowed his head to dot a kiss on her back.

“Don’t stop, Magnus, just take me,” she begged, crying out and burying her face in her hands as he thrust the rest of the way into her, holding his body tight against hers. Just as he began to slide out, as his hand slid around her hip to find her clit, the phone rang again, and she groaned, thumping her head against the box.     

“I’m not answering it.”

“They won’t stop, will they?”

                He hated that she knew it. That she knew they’d keep calling. But he wasn’t ready to stop – he wasn’t ready to go back to work, not yet. So his fingers slipped around her hip, across her thigh, and rubbed over her clit, bringing a smirk to his face as she bucked her hips back with a moan. Almost seamlessly, his other hand left her hip, and plucked the phone from his belt, startling her as he answered it mid-thrust.

“Martinsson…nope…I’m taking my lunch, Ann-Brit, I’ll be back when I’m done…” He bit down on his tongue, as she bit upon her lip, forcing herself to be quiet as he rubbed at her swollen nub, and thrust into her repeatedly. “Alright…bye.” As soon as he hung up, and shoved the phone into his pocket, Fiona let out a strangled moan that sent a bolt of lightning through him, forcing his hand back to her hip as he thrust faster, harder.

                Neither held out long. Within minutes, Fiona’s eyes were squeezed shut, fireworks exploding behind her closed lids as her muscles tightened around him. Her breathing was labored, as she clutched to the box, trying to stay quiet, trying not to give them away, as his hips continues slamming against her as he came, and rode out his own orgasm.

                He collapsed against her, his arms latched around her, as he pressed soft kisses against her back, her shoulder, until she lifted her head, and turned, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

“I was going to apologize…for teasing you in there…but if you keep this up…fuck apologies,” Fiona laughed, making him snicker and carefully slide out of her. Both groaned, but they knew they couldn’t just sit.

                It took them a couple of moments to fix their clothes, and catch their breaths, before Fiona shifted, and dropped back on her butt, giggling a little bit as she looked up at Magnus.

“What?” he asked, eyebrow raised, smirking at her.

“…you lost.” Groaning, Magnus leaned in, and pressed a kiss against her lips, both of them smiling into it.

“You cheated.”

“You liked it.”

“Yes, yes I did. And so did you.” Shifting slightly, Fiona slid her arms around him, tugging him to sit beside her.

“I have to say, though…I don’t wish I hadn’t. I’d do it again, if it means you’d do  _that_  again.” Magnus almost purred as he dotted a kiss on her temple, and wrapped his arms around her.

“I think it can be arranged…but not today. I have to really work when I get upstairs…I won’t have time to bend you over in my head,” he snickered, making her giggle and rest her head on his shoulder.

“Alright, alright…I will try to be good, I can’t promise anything – not like I have a change of clothes or something.”

                He glanced at his watch, before sighing, shifting, and plucking his phone from his pocket to place back in the clip on his belt. Fiona blushed, running her fingers through her hair, as she shifted to sit up, and look at him.

“You have to get back, don’t you?”

“Well…I did tell them I was at lunch…so if we can get out and over to the diner down the road without being seen…we can grab a bite before we go back in…are you hungry?”

“Well, now I am,” she giggled, kissing his neck as she shifted to her knees, and pushed the back doors open again. With a laugh, Magnus hopped out, and pulled her down, making sure she had her keys before closing the doors and pulling her across the road.

                It was a good meal, quick and tasty, as they sat in the diner down the street, him avoiding even  _looking_  at his phone. Her fingers tapped lightly against the table as she rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand, gazing across the table at Magnus.

“I’m sorry, Magnus.”

“…for what?”

“For…teasing you this morning. And not calling you a few years ago after our date.” He chuckled, and slid his hand across the table, giving hers a squeeze.

“Don’t be sorry. First, that…uh…punishment…was really good,” he said, lifting her hand, and kissing her knuckles. “Second…I believe we already made up for you not calling me, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but still. I mean, come on. I wasn’t even drunk when I put your number in before, you think I would have gotten it right.”

“Well…you did have a few glasses of wine.”

“I was  _nervous_ , you were so…I mean, you still are, but that date was something new, I’d never been on a blind date before,” she laughed, blushing as he raised a brow.

“I was so… _what_?”

“…oh, come on, Magnus,” Fiona said, shaking her head.

“No, no, come on, now,” he said, sliding his chair towards her and holding her hand against the table as she giggled, and blushed more.

“…You were  _so_  sexy, Magnus. And so adorable, all at once. I mean, the curls, your eyes, that smile. God  _damn_ , it is a wonder I didn’t sleep with you after our first date.” He couldn’t help but laugh as she admitted that, and flinched as her hand thrust out from beneath his, socking him in the chest.

“Hey, hey, stop that! I’m sorry, you just sound like you’re getting all worked up…again,” Magnus teased, as she kicked him beneath the table, and scooted her chair back.

“Don’t you have to get back to work?” she asked, standing, and stepping around him.

Quickly, he hopped up, pausing just long enough to hand a bill to the waitress who had come by with their ticket, before following Fiona out the door. His hands circled her waist, pulling her to a stop as he pressed a kiss to her neck. It made him smile when she squeaked, and giggled, rather than swat at him.

“I’m sorry, Fi, I wasn’t laughing at you…well…not intentionally laughing at you. Come on, I went home disappointed that you didn’t come with me that night…but I was much more disappointed when you never called.”

“Magnus…” she said softly, tilting her head to see him.

“After work, I’m going to call you, and we are going out to dinner, and then…if you want to come back to my place for the second night in a row, you are more than welcome.” A giggle passed her lips, and she twisted a bit in his arms, hooking her hands around his shoulders as she pulled him down for a hug.

“If you don’t call me, I swear to God, Magnus…” Fiona began, stopping with a whimper as he nipped at her neck, and squeezed her around the waist.

“Even if it’s just to say I’m running late, and to meet me, I will call you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she murmured, smiling as she gently pressed her lips to his.


	5. Chapter 5

 

                The waiter peered around for a moment, before approaching Fiona at the table, the wine bottle in his hands.

“Ma’am?” Shifting, she raised her head, and smiled. “Would you like some more wine?”

“Oh…yes, please,” Fiona said softly, pushing her finger against the base of her wine glass to move it towards him. With a nod, the waiter tilted the bottle over his wrist, pouring the white liquid into her glass.

“Do you…want to wait a little longer?”

“Yeah…yes, please…I’m going to give him a few, and then try calling him,” she blushed, looking down as the waiter nodded again, and moved away from the table.

Fiona shifted, taking a sip of the wine, before digging her phone out of her jacket as it hung on the chair behind her. Her fingers slid across the screen, scrolling for Magnus’ name, before pressing  _Dial_ , and holding it to her ear.

                Unlike the other three times she called him, trying to find out why he wasn’t at the restaurant, where he was, what was going on, this time, the phone rang. And after the third ring, she heard background noise, and then a breath.

“Martinsson.”

“Are you showing me how it felt when I didn’t call? Or did you get held up at work?” A soft sigh sounded, and Fiona bit her lip as she waited.

“I’m sorry, Fi…I got stuck here. I am just finishing up paperwork, I promise, I’m walking out in two minutes.”

“…do you want me to order for you? Or…just…continue to wait?” There was a few seconds where neither said anything, though she could hear some sort of sounds in the background, before he cleared his throat.

“I’m walking out right now, Fi…I really am sorry – I did tell you I’d be late.”

“I know…I’ll order you something to drink, what do you want?”

                He darted in the door, flashing a relieved smile as he passed the hostess, telling her he was meeting his date. Fiona had her head down, sliding her finger over her phone as she checked the time, and Magnus slowed as she blindly dropped it back into her jacket. Smirking, he stepped up behind her, bowing his head and planting a quick kiss on her cheek, snickering as she gasped.

“Hey!”

“I am so, so sorry about all of this, Fi, I hadn’t expected it to take so long, or I would have just had you come down to the station.” She blushed, as he shrugged his jacket off and hung it from his chair as he sat.

“It’s okay…I was starting to think you were letting me know how it felt when I didn’t call.” Magnus reached across the table, sliding his fingers around her hand and pulling it closer to dust a kiss over her knuckles.

“It wouldn’t be a fair shot, though, now, would it?” Fiona moved a little, and patted her hand against his cheek as she blushed.

“I am…sure…that I would have deserved it. But I’m glad you made it…I am at that point…where I am either going to get drunk, or I’m going to eat an entire cow.” That made Magnus laugh out loud as the waiter returned to their table with a smile.

“Are you two ready to order now?”

“Yes, please,” Fiona groaned, as Magnus quickly picked up the menu to look.

                It was a quick dinner, as Magnus didn’t want to make Fiona wait any longer than she already had to eat, so as the waiter cleared their plates, and they emptied their glasses, he found himself scooting his chair a little closer, sliding his arm around the back of her chair.

“So, Fi…did you want to come back with me tonight? Or just wait until I get to see you again?” Her cheeks flushed, as their eyes met, and she shrugged a little, pushing her wine glass against the table top.

“…my head is a swimming a bit…I don’t get to come to the station tomorrow because I finished updating today…” She turned her head just enough to see her watch, before turning to look at him again. “And someone left me waiting for quite a while. I think I’d rather go back with you tonight.” He was almost too excited, as he leaned in to press a sweet kiss on her cheek, before motioning the waiter over for the bill.

                She felt so comfortable, and so safe, and had she been completely sober, hadn’t been drinking wine the entire time she was at the restaurant, she might have been a little worried about how easily she slipped into the space beside him. After all, she had met him once, three years before, for a single date that never went anywhere because of her. And here they were, going to his apartment for the second night in a row, their heads buzzing, their bodies hot, longing for each other.

                Even as she lay beside him on his bed, her head resting on his arm, his nose nestled into her hair, her back against his chest, she couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t right. If they were moving too fast. Or maybe, just maybe, if she was coming across as too easy.

                And having spent her life in a family of family-oriented, respectable men on the straight and narrow, having wanted to grow up to be just like them, and disappointing herself once already when she went into IT instead of becoming a police officer,  coming across as  _easy_  was what scared her the most.

                When Magnus began to stir, nudging his nose against the back of her head as they lay in the darkness, her worry struck her once, sharply, before vanishing into the warmth of his body against hers. He had to have felt the tension in her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, as he lifted his head, blinked a few times, and kissed her shoulder.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly, as Fiona shifted against him, and tilted her head.

“No…just…thinking.”

“…about what? It’s so late.” Chuckling, Fiona rolled over to face him, and snuggled against him as he wrapped the blanket tightly around her back.

“Just…nothing…not really. Did I wake you?” she whispered, even though she wasn’t sure how she could have – not like she was moving, or talking.

“No, no…just…” He blinked at her for a moment, and she couldn’t resist the smile on her lips as her fingers slipped up, and through his messy mop of curls.

“Just woke up?”

“Yeah…come on…let’s…try this again.” Magnus shifted, rolling onto his back, and peered down at her as he guided her body closer. The smile on his lips was so sweet, that she couldn’t remember what had been keeping her up before, as she nestled her head against his chest, and let her eyes fall shut, allowing the darkness, the feel of his arms, and the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat lull her to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

 

                It was a few weeks, before Magnus  _noticed_  Fiona acting off. They went out a few more times each week – he even made sure to call her, have her meet him at the station, so she wasn’t stuck waiting at the restaurant again. But he was afraid to  _call_  her on it. What if she was seeing someone else? What if she had a whole life that Magnus just didn’t know about? It made him fidget during the days he didn’t see her, distracted him – even if only momentarily, before he shook his head and called himself  _ridiculous_  – while he was at work.

                It was a Friday when Fiona made her way to the station to surprise Magnus for lunch. Most of the week, they weren’t able to see each other. He would call her, or she would call him, even if just for a few minutes of conversation, but he kept getting caught up at work, leaving dinner out of the question.

                Magnus rested his head on his desk, rubbing his hands against his shoulders, as he groaned, shifted, and sat up. His eyes caught sight of Kurt, tucking his phone into his pocket, and walking out of the room.

“Anne-Brit?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s he going?” Magnus asked, motioning towards the door Kurt had just walked out of. She looked over from her seat, then peered towards the door, and shook her head.

“Lunch, probably? I’m going, too, in a moment…go on, Magnus. Get out for a little bit.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he nudged the chair away, grabbed his phone, and started out the door. A smile was playing on his lips as he fumbled with his phone, trying to pull up Fiona’s number, as he slid through the pen and started down the steps. Her laugh stopped Magnus, and he turned, peering over the railing to see her standing with Kurt and his daughter.

“It was good to see you, Fi,” Linda said, before giving Fiona a light hug, making her smile again. Upon pulling back, she glanced towards Kurt, and flashed a bigger smile.

“It was good to see you too. Both of you. Now…go on, enjoy lunch,” she said, as she carefully, gently, patted Kurt’s arm. He and Linda bid her farewell before walking out, and leaving her in the hall, running her fingers through her hair.

“…Fi?”

“Magnus!” she grinned, turning at the sound of his voice.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” he asked, reaching the bottom of the steps and walking towards her.

“I was going to surprise you, take you to lunch…” There was something about the uncertainty in his eyes that made her frown, and tilt her head. “…is that alright? Or should I have called?”

“Well, it would have been nice if you had called, you wouldn’t have had to wait.”

“Oh…well, I didn’t mind waiting,” Fiona began, motioning over her shoulder towards the door Kurt and Linda had just walked through.

“How do you know them?”

“I met Linda at a Support Walk in London a couple of years ago. We’ve kept in touch.” It was clear Magnus was trying to decide how to register that, how to respond. Frowning a little, Fiona moved up, and carefully took his hand. “…does…that bother you?”

“No…no, it’s fine. Just…confused me, I didn’t know you knew  _Kurt_.”

“Well, I did say Linda and I kept in touch. I went over to Kurt’s a few times to catch up with Linda, and once or twice he was there, too.” She shrugged some, and pushed her hair off her forehead. “It’s nothing…” In that moment, her eyes widened, and she raised a brow as she pushed herself up onto her toes to be even with his eyes. “Magnus Martinsson…are you jealous?”

“What!? No! No, no, not at all, you mentioned  _lunch_ ,” he replied, attempting to divert her attention. It made her giggle, even as he turned and started to lead her out of the station, and she jerked forward, releasing his hand but slipping her arms around his waist.

“ _Magnus_ ,” she murmured, pushing herself up as she stumbled against his back, just outside the station.

“Fi?”

“Are you  _jealous_?” she murmured into his ear, resting her chin on his shoulder, as her hands clasped against his stomach.

“…where do you want to go eat?”

“There’s nothing to be jealous of – I promise. I adore you,” she blushed, kissing his cheek before stepping around to look him in the eye. “I would  _never_  intentionally do  _anything_  to make you jealous.”

                A smile formed on his lips as relief washed over his features, and he bowed his head, kissing her lightly. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, before she carefully pushed against his chest, and pulled back, nudging her nose against his.

“Now…I  _did_  promise you lunch,” she said softly, smiling as he laughed.

“Good, because I’m  _starving_ ,” he replied, tugging her down the street towards his car.

                Part of her felt bad, for feeling  _good_  at the thought that he was, although unwilling to admit it, jealous of the way she talked to Kurt – or of the fact that she talked to Kurt, knew Kurt, at all. But the rest of her took it as a good sign, that he did, really, care about her. And that made her warm and fuzzy inside, as she skipped to catch up to him, jumping up some to push a kiss on his cheek before leaning against his car, her hip just beside the door.

Magnus snickered, raising a brow as he looked at her, and dug his keys from his pocket. He didn’t say anything, but slid his empty hand against the hip not near the door, tugging her slightly so he could pop the key into the lock.

“I haven’t said this yet…but you look really nice today,” he told her, bowing his head to kiss her forehead. She blushed, and gave his hand a squeeze as it rested on her hip, smiling as he pulled back.

“Thank you, Magnus…you look pretty good, yourself.” That made him smile a bit, before tugging open the door, and waiting for her to climb into the car.

                The jealousy was short lived, and he didn’t wonder - not like he had – if there was someone else in her life. But she still acted off, and she didn’t fall into his bed, into his arms, like she had those first few days. It didn’t go unnoticed. And it didn’t go without consequences.

                The following weekend, Magnus and Fiona decided to meet at a club, to have a drink, dance a bit, have a good time. She hoped it would loosen her up a bit, make her feel better. She had stopped feeling easy, stopped feeling like a disappointment to herself, but the feeling had come so quickly, hit her so deeply, that it was now an echo of guilt, and she felt bad for thinking he would think less of her for wanting to sleep with him.

                But Magnus had no clue how she felt. He thought she was losing interest – which was a disappointment in itself, seeing as how happy he had been, how excited, when she first walked into the station. And he didn’t want to be that guy, the one who begged his lover to stay despite her disinterest.

So when Fiona entered the bar that Saturday, she headed straight for the counter, not expecting Magnus to be there yet. As she leaned against the rail, and smiled, nodding, as the bartender motioned he’d be right over, her ears perked up at the sound of his laugh.

 _He’s early_ , she thought, grinning as she twisted to try and find him. It took a moment – and a lift by stepping awkwardly onto the rungs of the stool beside her – before she spotted him, along the wall, a smile on his face. She grinned a bit more, and hopped down, waving to the bartender that he didn’t need to worry about her, before ducking around the people between her and him.

                In an instant, the smile from her lips was gone, and she pulled her body to a stop, only a few feet away.

                He held a bottle of beer in his left hand, had a smile on his lips, and his right arm draped around the shoulders of another girl. Fiona hesitated, for a second, attempting to push out that sharp pang of jealousy, before it flooded her as he bowed his head, and kissed her forehead, just like he did with Fiona. 


	7. Chapter 7

 

                For a few minutes, she stood still, chewing at her bottom lip, trying to make things line up in her head. She hated making a scene – always had – and wanted to at least get a grasp on what she wanted to say before she said anything. After a few deep breaths, she walked up, and quirked her brow, tapping him on the shoulder. Frowning, Magnus shifted his arm, turning a little, and, almost involuntarily, his smile faded, and a very small smirk formed.

“Hey, Fiona.”  _Fiona_? Gulping, she glanced at the woman, who was staring at her almost angrily, before looking back at Magnus.

“…can we talk?” Even though he nodded, he didn’t seem too thrilled that she asked, and, upon giving the woman’s shoulder a squeeze, he turned completely, following Fiona away from the throng.

“What’s up?”

“ _What_  are you doing?” she asked, thrusting her hand out into his shoulder as she faced him. Magnus flinched, surprised that she struck him, and frowned.

“I’m having a beer and enjoying myself, what are you doing?” he countered, and for a second, he thought he saw sadness in her eyes.

“…I thought I was coming to the club to spend a fun night out with you…a  _fun night_ , of us, together, unwinding, relaxing. I thought I’d feel  _better_ , not worse.”

“Better?” Fiona bit her lip, and pushed her hair back, forcing herself to count to ten before taking a breath, and meeting his uncertain gaze.

“Have you not noticed?” When he didn’t answer, but rather just stared at her, she knew that if he had, he didn’t know what he was noticing. “…I know you noticed the fact that we haven’t had sex in two weeks, Magnus…and I finally figured out that is why you got jealous of  _Kurt_ ,” she continued, shaking her head. “I’m not fooling around, since you won’t ask the question. I was afraid…that we were moving too fast, and you would  _lose interest_  in me,” she sharply spat, lowering her eyes. “I suppose I was wrong…seeing as I tried to slow us down and you _still_  lost interest. So…I’m sorry, Magnus. Go back to…whoever she is. Have fun,” Fiona added, quickly, as she turned, and forced herself through the crowd without giving him a chance to speak.

                It wasn’t sadness he’d seen in her eyes. It was despair. And he didn’t need telling twice, as he pawned his half-empty bottle off on someone nearby before moving after her. How could he be so stupid? Or so stubborn? Would it have killed him, to sit her down before dinner, after dinner, hell, even  _during_  dinner, at any point in the past two weeks, to find out what was going on? Sure, he noticed – how could he not?

                Fiona was halfway down the block, her head down, her arms wrapped around her torso, by the time he caught up to her, his black boots thumping on the pavement as he forced himself to a stop. His hand caught her arm, as he took a breath, and sighed.

“Fi.”

“No. No, you…you go back in there,” Fiona answered, shaking her head as she turned to face him. She didn’t look up, though – she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to see the look on her face, the redness in her eyes. “You made it clear you would rather come early, get a beer, and do…whatever you planned on with that  _harlot_ , so go back and do it. I’m going home, I was stupid to think you would want me for long.” His finger caught her chin, and she forced her eyes closed as he tilted her head up.

“Open up.”

“No.”

“Fiona.”

“Magnus.”

“Open.  Up.” Despite his pointed directive, Fiona kept her eyes closed, her head tilted, ignoring his order, and stared at him with her eyes closed, not wanting him to see it. It didn’t last, as her eyes shot open at the feel of his hand on her ass.

“Magnus!”

“Got you to look at me. Fi…I thought  _you_  were tired of  _me_. How could I possibly lose interest in you?”

“Are you joking? What about me is interesting? I work in  _IT_. I mean…” Fiona shrugged, unable to find words to explain as she pulled her head from his hand, and looked down at herself. “You should go back in…to your skimpy blonde…” Magnus couldn’t stop the laugh that formed as he cupped his hand against her cheek, and tilted her head up.

“She’ll be just like everyone else – she’ll get tired of waiting for me, night after night, while I get caught up at work with Kurt.”

“I never care how long you get stuck at work…so long as I get to see you…or talk to you…” That caught him, and he frowned, closing his eyes.           

                That was true. They’d only been together a few weeks, but a majority of the time, he had to work late – much later than he had anticipated. Their dates got pushed back, their phone calls, but no matter how late he got out of the station, she was waiting for him, either for dinner, or for a call. He just hadn’t thought about it, and he felt himself blush, shaking his head.

“I’m such a tit, darling, I’m sorry…” Her brow furrowed as she raised her head, tilted it slightly as she peered up at him.

“…you didn’t realize that?”

“No, like I said, I’m a tit. You’re right, of course…but that doesn’t make me any less of a tit,” Magnus sighed, as she bit down upon her lip, and giggled.

“Well…I’ll give you that, you are a tit…I’m still upset…” He thrust his hand out, pulling her closer as he tickled her sides. Fiona couldn’t help but squeal, and wriggle in his arms, striking his shoulders to try and make him stop.

“Are you upset now?”

“Magnus! Stop!” she laughed, as he shook his head.

“Not until  you agree to come back in with me!”

“No!” she snorted, as he continued to tickle her, his fingers slipping under her shirt to have direct contact with her sides. “Magnus I’ll-make-Linda-get-me-your-middle-name Martinsson, you stop tickling me  _right now!_ ” she howled, as he finally pulled away from her strikes, and catching her wrists in his hands.

“Will you come back in with me? Get a drink?” As her laughter subsided, she sighed, and started to shake her head, a smile still soft on her lips. “Please, darling…I won’t leave you for anything. We’ll have a drink, a dance, and then we’ll leave, if that’s what you want.” She sighed, and looked up at him, snickering very softly at the hopeful look in his eyes.

“…alright… _one_  drink. But…I think you and I need to sit down and talk tonight, eh?”

“Later. One drink. One dance. Then home…”

“Mine or yours?”

“Whichever makes you feel better, Fi. Come on,” he smiled, sliding an arm around her shoulders as he led her back down the sidewalk to the club.

                They were in the club maybe ten minutes, leaning against the bar, his arm holding her against his side, when, beneath the heavy beat of the music around them, a small triple tone was heard from inside his jacket. Both paused, peering at each other, before her fingers fished his phone from his pocket, and held it up for him.

“Kurt…”

“Fuck me,” he grumbled, kissing her temple, and flipping it open. “Martinsson…” She saw the look on his face, and, after tossing a bill on the bar for the bartender as he moved towards them, she took hold of his jacket, and led him away from the crowd, away from the noise. “…alright…yeah, I’ll be in shortly.” His arm circled her shoulders, as they stepped outside, before he looked down at her.

“Work?”

“Work…I’m sorry, Fi.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m going to go home, but…if you want…you can come by when you’re done,” Fiona smiled, biting her lip as he bowed his head to plant a light kiss on her lips.

“Sounds like a plan, darling. Drive safe, alright?”

“You too. He is not worth you rushing,” Fiona told him, stealing one more kiss before they separated, and went to their own cars.


	8. Chapter 8

 

                The desk had never felt as comfortable as it did as Magnus thunked his head down on it, eyes closed, as the clock ticked over to four in the morning. He had texted Fiona hours ago, to let her know this was looking like an all-night run. She texted him a frown, an apology, an  _It’s alright, we’ll get lunch tomorrow_ , and a smiley face in response, which made him smile. Fiona had every right to be angry with him, to not want to talk to him, but she wasn’t holding on to any of it.

                Sleep was starting to take over, and the sounds around him were becoming fuzzy and faded.

                Then his desk phone rang, and he groaned, thrusting his foot against the floor as he sat up and answered it.

“Martinsson…one second…” he said, pulling the phone away and covering the mic as he shifted to see who was still conscious. A small sigh past his lips when he realized they all were, and were seated at the table a few feet away. “Anne-Brit…phone.”

                No one else spoke, watching her as she held the phone to her ear, before she spun on her heels.

“Alright…yeah, we’re on our way, Kurt,” she said, dropping the phone into the cradle. “There’s been another shooting downtown.” Kurt was reluctant, but he followed her, leaving Magnus half-awake at his desk. He looked towards the clock, then his phone, and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Sleep…or coffee…” He considered his choices, for a moment, before climbing to his feet, and crossing the floor, stretching out on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hands. He had no intentions of falling asleep.

                But next thing he knew, Anne-Brit was shaking him to wake him, a frown on her face.

“Magnus?”

“…sorry, sorry, Anne-Brit…what happened?”

“There’s been another murder downtown…Kurt is talking to a few witnesses with Lisa down the hall…and I’m going to notify families. There are a few people who were struck by stray bullets, in the hospital. They’re out, at the moment – under sedation. So why don’t you go home and get some rest, and when you come back, you can go down to talk to them.” Nodding, and yawning, Magnus tossed his empty cup into the trash, and stood up.

“Alright…um…thanks, Anne-Brit.”

“No worries. Just get some rest.” With another nod, Magnus tugged his jacket on, and slipped out of the station.

                When he woke from his nap, a few hours later, Magnus flopped his hand onto the nightstand, tugging his phone down to check messages. He had texted Fiona as he walked in the door, to apologize for the night before, to tell her he’d have to cancel lunch, but she hadn’t answered. He sighed, and fumbled to dial her number, pressing the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring twice, and go to voicemail.

“…I hope you aren’t mad again, Fi…really…I planned on taking you to lunch, but there’s been a few shootings, and I had to work, and I just…” He sighed, and rolled onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes. “…call me, darling?” After a second pause, he hung up, and dropped the phone to his bed, climbing to his feet with a groan, and a stretch.

                A little bit later, he came out of the shower, a towel around his head, his boxers clinging to the moistness on his hips. His finger lit up his phone, and he was met with nothing new, which brought a frown to his lips as he pressed the button to call her again.

“Fi, I’m getting the feeling you’re upset with me. Didn’t you just say, last night, you didn’t care how late I got stuck at work so long as we got to talk, or see each other? I’m just…darling, I need you to understand that this is my job, and I can’t just turn it off and walk away from it. So call me, alright? Call me, we can sit down tonight  _when I get out of work_ , and we can talk. You can vent, anything you want, just…call me?”

                In the past few weeks, if he called her, she called him back within ten minutes, so admittedly, he was getting a little nervous when, once he was dressed, and arriving at work, she hadn’t even so much as texted him. He stared at his phone for a moment, before tapping out a quick text of  _Please don’t be angry, darling…just call me?_ and heading into the station.

                Anne-Brit caught him as he came up the steps, her phone in her hands.

“Glad you’re here, Magnus…”

“Are they awake yet?”

“One girl is still out, but the others are awake. Are you going down there now, to start talking to them? ”

“Yeah…Do you have any names?” Anne-Brit dug her hand into her pocket, handing him the slip of paper she pulled out.

“Here…these are the names of the ones who were awake. The other girl, she’s still out…but the doctors are saying she could be waking at any time. They’re going to call if she wakes up, so check in before you leave, alright?”

“No problem.”

                The small notebook in his hand was full of scribbled notes about each of the people he spoke to in the hospital, making sure he didn’t miss anything. He walked down the hall towards the nurses’ station, smiling as she raised her head to see him.

“Can I help you, Detective?”

“Yes, please…Natalie. Um, I’m just finishing up talking with the victims from last night. But, I was wondering about the girl, the one whose name we don’t know…has she woken up?”

“Oh! Actually, I was going to go check on her, if you want come with?” she smiled, flashing a bright smile at Magnus as he nodded, and she stepped around the desk, leading him down to the ICU.

                Pushing his fingers through his curls, Magnus sighed, and made a mental note that he would take a shower before going to see Fiona that night. Although, as he checked his phone while the nurse led him down the hall, he became aware she still hadn’t answered. Maybe there wouldn’t be a dinner that night. Not if she didn’t answer him.

 _She’s either really pissed, or her phone is dead_ , he thought to himself, sighing as he stuffed the phone back into his pocket.  

                Natalie paused outside the door, peering inside to see if the patient was awake.

“She’s starting to stir, if you want to come in…” Magnus nodded, slipping the pen and notepad into his pocket, following the nurse into the rom. “Just wait over here for a second,” she told him, nodding and ducking behind the drawn curtain. Magnus flinched at the whimpers and groaned that sounded from the bed just across the floor from him – they were so pained, and so pitiful. “It’s alright, hon…just take a breath, let me adjust your medication,” the nurse murmured.

                A moment past before she tugged the curtain, and smiled.

“She’s ready for you, Detective.”

“Thank you…”

                Natalie stepped around to move out of his way, and Magnus started for the bed, stopping short when he saw the girl in the bed.

“…Fi?” Her eyes shot up, full of pain and confusion, before groaning, and dropping her head back onto the pillow behind her.

“Magnus?” The chair scraped as he yanked it up by the bed, dropping into it as his hand found hers.

“Fi, what the hell happened, shit, are you alright?”

                He could see in her eyes that part of her wanted to laugh, but just a slight shift made her gasp, wince, cringe, and carefully shake her head.

“I have a hole in my body that shouldn’t be here, no, I’m not all that okay, Magnus…”

“What happened?” he asked again, wrapping his fingers around her hand as she rolled her head to see him. God, he was so worried, and it made her close her eyes as she took a shaky breath. The pain coursed through her, radiating from that single point in her abdomen, but through it, she could feel the slight dizziness, that soft haze around her head, that made her frown, and shaking her head.

“I’m high, aren’t I? I mean…morphine? Something? I shouldn’t still be feeling this, should I? It’s not like the bullet’s still in me…”

“Actually,” Natalie began, startling them both to a point that Fiona whimpered audibly. “Oh, easy, honey…the doctor’s weren’t able to operate…to get that bullet out…it’s, um…they wanted to wait until you woke, I’m not sure why.” Fiona closed her eyes, biting her lip as she squeezed Magnus’ hand tightly, but as he peered over at Natalie, he knew she was lying.

“Can I get m-more? I can’t…I hurt…god damn, I hurt…” Fiona slurred softly, as Magnus bowed his head, and kissed the back of her hand.

“I can’t give you any more, ma’am…not just yet…try to rest, though, alright? I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.” Magnus kissed her hand again, before standing, and glancing towards Natalie.

“Fi…I’m going to go talk to the doctor for a minute, I’ll be right back, okay?” She whimpered, clutching his hand for a second, before she weakly released, and laid her hand on the bed.

“…okay…”

                The chair scraped as Magnus pushed back, and stood, bowing to kiss Fiona’s forehead before he turned and followed the nurse out. As soon as the door closed, she glanced back at him, knowing he knew.

“Why didn’t they operate?” he asked, his voice hushed, as Natalie sighed, and shook her head.

“It’s too dangerous, Detective,” a voice sounded from behind him, making him turn to see the doctor approach, his hands in the pockets of his white coat.

“Dangerous? She was  _shot_ , why leave the bullet?” The doctor nodded to Natalie, who bowed her head and walked back into the room, before meeting Magnus’ hard gaze.

“It’s lodged near her spine…if we go in for the bullet, there is a chance she won’t walk again.”


	9. Chapter 9

 

                The doctor and Magnus stood in the hallway for several minutes, as Magnus stared into the room, a frown on his face.

“…are you going to talk to her about it?”

“Hard to do when she’s on pain medication. I have to wait for her to be stable before I can talk to her about the possibilities.”

“…she needs to know, that bullet can’t stay where it is. I mean, honestly…what are her choices? Keep it in and be in pain forever? Or have you take it out, and risk paralysis?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” the doctor replied, nodding as Magnus ran his hand through his curls and sighed.

“…she needs to know,” Magnus muttered.

Shaking his head, he opened the door, and moved back towards Fiona as she lie in the bed. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, soft whimpers sounding off her tongue, as her eyes followed him to the chair beside her. His fingers ran lightly against the back of his hand, as he bowed his head, and kissed her knuckles.

“Fi…”

“Please just tell me I’m not going to die here.” Magnus’ head snapped up, his curls bouncing lightly as he sat upright, wide-eyed. Had he heard that right?

“What?”

“…tell me…I’m not going to  _die_  here,” she murmured again.

“No, no, darling, I can tell you that much, you aren’t going to  _die_  here, you’re gonna be just fine,” Magnus answered, almost too quickly, as he gently lifted her hand into his, and leaned onto the bed to press his lips to her cheek. She closed her eyes, biting at her lip again, as she sniffled softly.

“I hurt, Magnus…I thought  _painkillers_  were supposed to make it stop…” It killed him, how weak she sounded, how much pain she was very obviously in, knowing he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Just breathe, Fi…” Before he could say, or do, anything else, the phone on his hip buzzed, and he swore, shifting back to put it to his ear. “Martinsson…no, she’s awake…I haven’t asked her yet…I will, I will…alright…” Closing the phone, Magnus kept his head down, sliding it into his pocket. He knew he had to prod, had to ask if she remembered anything, even though she was aching. It surprised him, when he heard her say his name again, and he raised his head.

“…ask me what?”

“…about this morning.” She took a breath, to try and tell him she wasn’t mad – despite the pain thumping through her body, that was her first thought. But he flipped his notepad open, and it hit her that he was talking about the hole in her abdomen, and she blushed, very faintly, as she sighed.

“…this morning…I couldn’t sleep…I was going to go to the bakery, to…to get some rolls…I thought about…a-about bringing some in for you, since I knew you were working,” she started, a small smile on her lips before she closed her eyes, and leaned her head back. “…I…I was just coming out of the building…almost at my car…and I heard this noise…I stopped…” She shook her head a little, uncertainty apparent on her face. “…I’m…not sure…really…I felt the pain, in my stomach, and then…that was it…”

                His fingers slid into hers, and he bowed his head, writing it down, before putting the book and pen in his pocket, and scooting the chair closer to her.

“Fi…Fi, listen to me…” Magnus started softly, watching as she opened her eyes a bit, and peered over at him.

“…you have to work?” He nodded, frowning, before reaching up to brush his fingers over her cheek.

“I do have to work…but before I go, the doctor has to tell you something,” Magnus told her, peering over at the doctor as he stood in the doorway. Despite shooting Magnus a look of surprise, he cleared his throat, and approached the bed, bowing his head to check her IV.  

“Well…I hadn’t, not just yet…”

“Tell me what?”

“It’s about…the bullet,” Magnus said, prodding the doctor a little.

“Detective.”

“Tell me,” Fiona spoke, her voice pained but sharp. The doctor sighed, and stood up, running a hand down his face.

“It’s lodged in your spine…we can operate, and remove it, but there is a chance the damage will…leave you unable to walk…” It was almost as though she anticipated it, as Magnus met her gaze. She didn’t seem surprised – just sad.

“I don’t care…just get it out of me…I can’t take the pain, just get it  _out of me_.” The doctor sighed, again, and took a step closer to the bed.

“Ma’am, before you make the choice, we really talk about the pros and cons.” A soft cry passed her lips as she shifted, forcing Magnus to jump off his chair, and reach for her.

“Fiona, easy, come on, now…” he begged, as she shook her head, and raised her head to see the doctor again.

“If you do not get this stupid, fu-“

“Fi!”

“I WANT IT OUT OF ME, god damn it,” she cried, putting her hands on her abdomen, just below the wound.  “Just  _cut me open_ , and rip it out, I can’t take it, I can’t get any more pain meds, and I can still feel  _everything_ , get it  _out of me_ ,” Fiona growled, squeezing her eyes closed as Magnus looked up at the doctor pitifully.

                It only took another yelp from Fiona as she tried to get more comfortable for the doctor to leave the room to put the surgery into motion. Her eyes darted up to meet Magnus’, tears brimming them as he cupped her face, and bowed his head to kiss her softly.

“Fi…baby…just breathe, and try to stay still, okay? I have to call Kurt…but…”

“It’s okay…it’s okay, I know, you have to work…just…please…come back…”

“I promise I will…but you rest…stay still and breathe, he’s gonna take good care of you.” She was so scared, he could see it in her eyes, but he knew he couldn’t stay – he knew he had to go call Kurt. Bowing his head again, he dotted a gentle kiss on her lips, her cheek, and her forehead, before moving his hands and standing upright.

“Be careful.”

“Rest.”

                With that, Magnus stepped out of the room, and headed out of the hospital, pressing the buttons on his phone, and calling back to the station.

“Hoglund.”

“What do we know?” Magnus asked, catching her for a second before she flipped the phone onto speakerphone and put the receiver down.

“Depends upon what you found out while you were there.”

“Alright…well, I can tell you that one of the victims, the one who was still unconscious when I came out? She was just in the station a few weeks ago to update the systems. Fiona Langston. She wasn’t around others when she was shot – she was going to her car…I’m going to go by her apartment, see if her car is there. If not, then I have a good idea as to what he was driving,” Magnus informed them, starting his car, and pulling out of the lot, his phone pressed to his ear.


	10. Chapter 10

 

                The group surrounded the table, pictures of the victims, the composite of the attacker, and more pictures of the club down the block and around the corner from Fiona’s apartment. It took a few minutes before an image of a car the same make, model, and color as Fiona’s was printed off, and tossed onto the table, as well.

                Rubbing his hands over his face, Magnus peered out through his fingers, groaning at the sight of the computer still running a search, trying to  _find_  her somewhere in their system.

“Any luck?” Anne-Brit asked, peering over from the table.

“No…I swear, it’s like she popped up out of nowhere. I mean, she’s been in Ystad for  _years_ , came out for school from London.”

“Have you checked with London?” Anne-Brit prodded, brow raised, as he sighed, and shook his head.

“Not yet, it hasn’t finished y-“ Before he could give in to his doubt, the phone began to ring in the center of the table, cut off swiftly as Kurt grabbed it.

“Wallander…alright…alright, thanks…” He lowered the phone to the cradle, and peered up at Magnus and Anne-Brit with a frown. “One of the victims, uh, Martin Taylor – he just died from his wounds. Have we gotten anything yet?”

“No, I’m still searching.” At that, the computer beeped, and Magnus grabbed the mouse, clicking a couple of times before he frowned. “Nothing. How can there be  _nothing_?” he grumbled, peering over as the phone rang again. This time, Anne-Brit answered, her head down a bit, before nodding and pushing her chair back.

“We’re on our way…” Dropping the phone back into its cradle, she raised her eyes, and stood. “They found the car – abandoned, just outside of town. Kurt?” she asked, as he pushed his chair back, and followed her out of the room.

Magnus rubbed his hand over his hair, glancing towards the clock. When he called the hospital before walking into the station, the nurse told him Fiona was waiting to go into surgery. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had gone in yet, and, sighing, he reached towards the phone by his monitor, tugging it up to his ear as he punched in the hospital number. Just as it started to ring, Lisa’s voice a few feet away surprised him into dropping the receiver to the desk, and he fumbled to hang it up.

“Sorry, Magnus…I didn’t man to startle you, are you alright?” He lifted his head, and shrugged, before nodding.

“Yes, I’m fine…I didn’t realize you were still over there.”

“Magnus.”

“I’m frustrated, how can she not be in the computer? I mean…honestly, what do I need to do, run her prints?”

“Might find her,” Lisa suggested, shrugging as she stood.

“I  _can’t_ , she’s supposed to be in surgery to get that bullet out…I have all of the other victims, I found all of them,” he said, pointing to the files on the table, “but Fiona is a ghost.” Instantly he paled, and shook his head. “No…not a ghost, just…”

“I know what you meant. Since we can’t get her prints from her, go to her apartment and try to get a print off of something there. We need to find her – we can’t forgo anyone at this point.” Heaving a sigh, Magnus pushed his chair back, plucking his coat from the back.

“I’ll go do that now…thanks,” he told her, shifting some and heading out of the station.

                Her apartment was very quiet, very chilly, and he frowned, peering around as he flicked on the light switch. It was weird, being in her place without her there, too. Usually they went back to his apartment – not that he minded, really. To be honest, he didn’t care where he was, so long as she was wrapped in his arms, her skin against his.

                Magnus paused in the kitchen, and blushed, clearing his throat.

“Not the time to think about that,” he mumbled at himself, shaking the thoughts away as he poked around for something, anything, that would have a solid print on it.

                It took him a little while, between trying to find a good print, and shaking away thoughts of Fiona, before he finally returned to the station. Kurt and Anne-Brit arrived shortly thereafter. It wasn’t too long, though, that they were running prints pulled from Fiona’s car. Just like before, Magnus was at the computer, watching the prints pulled from the car run through the system.

                But unlike before, they hit a match quickly, and Magnus perked up, tapping his finger against the keys to pop up the result.

“Looks like our carjacker is a Christian Melvin. Was arrested six months ago for domestic abuse…”

“Any family, wife, parents, anything, anyone he might go to? Anyone who might help him?” Anne-Brit asked, climbing from her chair and walking around to stand behind Magnus at the desk.

“Hmmm…let’s…see…yeah, it says that his parents are gone, but he has a brother that lives in Ystad…and a wi-“

                The second the picture of his wife popped up, Magnus sat upright, eyes wide, lips curved into a frown. Anne-Brit frowned, but not from surprise – from confusion – as she tilted her head, and reached around Magnus to bring up the wife’s name.

“You don’t need that,” he said, shaking his head before Anne-Brit could type anything.

“What? Why, do you know her?” she asked, moving her hand and peering at Magnus.

“We all do.” It took a minute, before Magnus raised his eyes from the screen, and twisted the monitor just enough for the others to see. “This is Fiona Langston…”

“The carjacking victim?”


	11. Chapter 11

 

                Despite the attempts to keep him at the station, Magnus pulled his coat on, and headed out. He started towards the hospital, trying to figure out why Fiona didn’t tell him she was married at any point in the last two months. But only a few miles from the hospital, he realized she was probably still in surgery. Heaving a sigh, he turned around, heading back to her apartment, instead, hoping there would be something to ease his mind.

                No sooner had he made the turn, and started back, did his phone ring, and, with a frown, he pulled it up.

“Martinsson…”

                The nurse’s voice in his ear told him that, although Fiona was out of surgery, she was not yet awake. Despite how bad he wanted to make another turn and just go wait, he knew how ridiculous that sounded, so, instead, he continued back to her apartment.

                This time, as he stood just inside the doorway, he felt uneasy, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He’d just been there a couple hours before, why did it feel worse now?

“Oh…right…because now I know she’s married…” he mumbled, shaking the thought a little as he crossed the floor, and peered into the living room. As much as he trusted her, as much as he  _wanted_  to trust her, he couldn’t shake the idea that, maybe, she just put everything away that hinted or showed that she had a husband, just while he was around. That simple idea made him stop, and shake his head. Why did he go there? Why did his head go to that place? He loved her, she loved him…didn’t she?

                With another shake of his head, he turned, and headed back out.

“This is ridiculous, I need to stop…she loves me,” he mumbled, partly trying to convince himself, as he closed the door behind him. He ran his fingers through his curls, hopping down the steps and digging his key from his pocket. With a sigh, Magnus climbed back into his car, and drove away from Fiona’s building, deciding to take a chance and head to the hospital.

                Just in case.

                Even though his phone rang a few times as he pulled into the lot – Anne-Brit’s name scrolling across the screen – Magnus declined the call, putting it on silent as he headed into the hospital. The nurse behind the desk wasn’t Natalie, as it had been when he was in hours before. But she did smile, and show him to Fiona’s room, where the brunette was still out, propped onto her side with a few pillows at her back.

“The doctor doesn’t want pressure on her incision…so we have to try and keep her on her side…” Magnus nodded, and took a step towards the bed, before he glanced back at the nurse.

“Okay…Thank you.” As the nurse walked out, Magnus pulled a chair up to Fiona’s bedside, peering down at her peaceful face, her breathing steady as she stayed under. His fingers splayed out on the bed, near her arm, resisting the urge to take her hand.

                How could she look so sweet, so perfect, despite what she’d just endured? And how could he still be fighting that anger that she never told him she was  _married_ , seeing her now?

                It didn’t feel like too long – though it probably was – when he felt her shift. A soft whimper passed her lips, and she slowly opened her eyes, looking around groggily. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, both of them smiled as her hand found his.

“Magnus…you came back…”

“I told you I would,” he said, before carefully releasing her hand, and leaning back in the chair. The expression on his face changed, and Fiona, despite the sedatives still coursing through her, was aware of it as she raised her head.

“…is something wrong?” she asked softly, as he sighed, and ran a hand down his face.

“Were you ever going to mention that you were married?” Frowning, she leaned against the pillows, and shook her head in uncertainty.

“…what?”

“Married. I know you’re married – your  _husband_  stole your car after he shot you.”  A gasp fell from her lips as she jerked, and cried out from the pressure on her incision. Instinctively, his hands went out to still her. “Stop moving, Fi…”

“My hus-…no,  _no_  I’m not married, are you out of your mind?”

“Are you? Fi, we ran his prints, you come up as his  _wife_ , why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not married,” she insisted, as he shook his head and pushed the chair back. Fiona looked up at him as he stood, trying to push herself up to see him better as she fought to ignore the pain from her incision in her back, and her wound in her stomach.

“Fiona.”

“Magnus, I am telling you, we’re  _divorced_ , been that way for months, don’t you trust me?”

“How can I trust you if you don’t  _tell_  me anything?” Fiona furrowed her brow, and shook her head.

“When this sedative wears off, I’m going to be  _so angry_  at you for the way you’re talking to me,” she grumbled, leaning her body back on the bed. With a roll of his eyes, Magnus turned towards the door.

“Fiona, if anyone has a right to be angry, it’s me – you are  _married_. To a man who  _shot you_ , and then stole your car, and you’re angry with  _me_ , you are  _out_  of your mind.” Before Fiona could object, could argue, his phone buzzed on his hip, and he sighed, walking out without another word. She could hear him, through the door, as he spoke to someone on the phone – Anne-Brit, she decided – before he headed off down the hall. With a whimper, and sniffle, Fiona dropped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands to hide the tears brimming her eyes.     

*

                Magnus was so angry that he couldn’t, he just  _couldn’t_ , go back to the hospital to see Fiona. She even rang him, a few hours after he walked out, but he didn’t answer, and she was too shaky to leave a decent voice message.

                The gun used in the shootings was found that evening, but it was another couple of days before they found Christian, hiding in the barn, not far from where the car was abandoned. They had him tied to the gun but they needed to tie him to the shootings. And they needed him to confess. The call had come in while Magnus was home, taking a small rest, showering, between shifts. He almost couldn’t move fast enough to get dressed, to head to the station.

Shoving the door closed, Magnus headed up into the building, bounding up the steps to meet Anne-Brit at the top.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in lockup, downstairs. His prints were all over it, but we’re working to match it to the bullet the doctors pulled from Fiona, so until then, we have nothing but his prints in his wife’s car.” Magnus cringed at that, but cleared his throat, and nodded.

“How long till the bullet gets matched?”

“It matches,” Kurt spoke up, reaching them before Anne-Brit could answer.

“So he shot her – did we get a bullet from anyone else?”

“Another match – we’ve got him.”

                It was a hellish interrogation, the  _hours_  spent across the table from their shooter, a man so intent to make them work for anything that he was casually sipping a cup of water, ignoring every single one of their questions and instead countering with random bits of information – his favorite weather, his favorite food, a movie he watched when he was younger. He was oh so determined to avoid giving them what they wanted.      

                But Kurt, Anne-Brit and Magnus were more determined to get answers.

                So, as they watched his barrier start to wear down, and his defense start to fade, Magnus leaned forward, arms resting on the edge of the table.

“Just answer me one question, Christian. Why did you shoot your wife, and steal her car?”

                That was it.

                Christian’s eye shot up, his gaze meeting Magnus’, confusion in them. It was clear that he wasn’t expecting them to ask that, considering up until that point, their focus had been on the shootings at the club, not on the others. He looked around the room, before frowning, and rolling his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He was exhausted, tired of sitting, of avoiding their questions.

Running a hand down his face, Christian shook his head, and closed his eyes.

“I knew if she saw me, she’d call the cops. Always threatened it whenever I saw her before…I was just gonna take her car, but she was out there, and I needed it…” Christian shrugged, and shook his head. “Stupid bitch, had her thug of a father force me to sign the divorce papers. She didn’t want  _anything_  to do with me, she sent him to do it.” The confusion forced itself all over Magnus’ face as he frowned, and tilted his head.

“What? Divorce papers?”

“Yeah, genius – she filed for divorce five months ago.”


	12. Chapter 12

 

                Christian didn’t hold out any more. After telling them why he shot Fiona, he just admitted why he shot everyone else. He hadn’t  _meant_  to, it wasn’t his original intention – but then again, no one was supposed to be at the club, they should have been closed by then. But the ones who got shot were the stragglers, the ones who “knew a guy”, “knew the bartender”, and were allowed to stay until everyone left. He just wanted the money, the robbery was supposed to be simple.

                With a sigh, and a shake of her head, Anne-Brit stood, snapping the cuffs around Christian’s wrists. ­Magnus bowed his head, rubbing his hands over his face, as she led him from the room. It was over. They had him. He confessed. It was recorded.

                After a moment, Magnus pushed himself away from the table, and moved back to his desk, reopening Fiona’s records. A groan passed his lips as he reread her and Christian’s status –  _divorced_. Flicking over to Christian’s page, he noted where, previously, he had read about his wife, but this time, Magnus noticed the tiny prefix he had missed:  _ex_. Ex-wife. A tiny two-letter prefix that changed the entire meaning of the word, and sent him to face Fiona angry, worried, that she had lied to him, when in reality, she just hadn’t told him yet.

“…son of a bitch, I’m such a tit,” he moaned, closing the pages, shoving his chair back, and heading out of the station. He had to talk to her, had to apologize, for jumping on her before.

                Behind the nurses’ station sat Natalie, her hair pulled back, her eyes on the screen. She almost didn’t see Magnus, until he started past, and, darting her eyes up, Natalie hopped to her feet.

“Oh! Excuse me, detective!” He stopped, tilting his head to see her, and shook his head.

“I’m just going to see Fi-“

“She’s not there anymore, Detective.” Magnus paled a little as he turned on his heels.

“What do you mean, she’s not  _there_  anymore?”

“Well…” Natalie was a little unnerved by the way he looked at her, horrified and angry all at once, before she shook her head. “I mean, she’s fine, but she’s been moved. To a hospital in London.”

“London?!” She stepped back, frowning, before taking a breath.

“You  _keep_  your  _voice_  down, Detective, this is a hospital, not the station. Yes. She was moved to London – at her request, if you must know. And the doctor agreed it would be fine, so this morning she was flown to a hospital over there.”

                She  _wanted_  to go back to London.

                Closing his eyes, Magnus lowered his head, and groaned softly, dropping his shoulders.

“She asked to be moved to London…did she say why?” Natalie shook her head, turning to head back to the station.

“Not really. She wanted to be closer to family, but I honestly don’t know if that was her only reason. I’m sorry, Detective.” Magnus paced a little, trying to think, before turning back to her.

“Can you tell me what hospital?”

“I don’t know, Detective. I can leave a message for the doctor, when he comes back, to call the station and let you know?” Sighing, Magnus nodded, plucking a card out of his wallet and handing it to her before leaving the hospital, not waiting for her to say anything else.

                Fiona went to London.

                Not just to be closer to family. She could say that all she wanted, but he knew why she asked.

It was because he got angry with her, for something that he was wrong about.

How could he be so stupid, and judgmental?

How could he  _possibly_  be such a tit?

As he walked out of the hospital, Magnus fumbled with his phone, staring at Fiona’s number. He knew she wouldn’t have her phone on her – not if she had just been transported from one hospital to another – and he silently swore at himself as he became aware he didn’t even know her parents’ names, let alone know their numbers, to call and see what hospital she was now at.

It wasn’t difficult, deciding to go to her apartment, to try and find something – anything- to find out where she was now. An address, a phone number, her parents’ pictures or even just their names – she had to have something, didn’t she?

But as he pulled up, and headed into her building, he stopped, and glanced back over his shoulder. There was a For Rent sign in the window, and, as he cast his eyes over the names on the buzzers along the wall, he noticed her name no longer listed. Frowning, he shoved his finger into the button for the landlord, Mrs. Taylor.

“Who is it?” sounded an uncertain voice through the speaker.

“Mrs. Taylor? It’s Detective Martinsson…”

“Oh, just a moment, dear…” He heard the buzzing of the knob a few feet away, and jumped forward to crank it open before the sound stopped.

                Mrs. Taylor’s flat, unlike Fiona’s, was just down the hall, and around the corner, right on the main floor. He met her once, the first time he had come by. Or, more, the morning after, as he was leaving. She was happy to see Fiona have company, but as he moved down the hall now towards her door, he wondered if it was more that she was happy that Fiona had company that  _wasn’t_  her ex.

                The door cracked open, and Mrs. Taylor smiled at Magnus, letting him in before closing the door.

“Would you like something to drink, dear? Maybe a glass of water?”

“…um, sure…sure, that would be nice…”

“What can I do for you?” she asked, well aware something was on his mind. He wrung his hands together for a few seconds, until she held a cool glass of water out to him, and raised her brow.

“Oh…well…I couldn’t help but notice the for rent sign…and that Fiona’s name was off her buzzer…” Mrs. Taylor frowned, and nodded.

“Well, yes…just did that about twenty minutes ago. Didn’t you know she was leaving?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean…yeah, I did,” he lied, shrugging. “I just thought she was waiting until she was fully healed and everything.” Mrs. Taylor smiled, and shook her head, as Magnus took a drink of his water.

“I feel so bad for the poor girl, her getting hurt and everything. But she called me last night, said her family was coming by to pack up, and move her…They actually told me they were surprised how easy it was, you know, since most of the pieces of furniture came with the apartment. They left about an hour ago with everything – said she was airlifted back to London?”

“Right, right…did they leave anything upstairs, that they were going to come back for?”

“There are a couple boxes that they left upstairs, asked if I could send them when the post opens tomorrow and they’ll reimburse me,” Mrs. Taylor told him, nodding a little as she motioned to the address on the counter. His eyes lit up, and he glanced towards the glass in his hands, before smiling.

“You know, Mrs. Taylor, if it’s alright, I can take those boxes off your hands, mail them to her in the morning.” She raised her head to see him, and smiled sweetly.

“Are you sure, dear? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Absolutely. I’m not far from the post, it would save you the hassle of getting them out of the apartment, and everything.”

                He was stunned, though hid it well, when she handed him the address, and agreed. It seemed so easy, that Magnus would get the address for Fiona’s parents’ house – as well as their names – so quickly. Sure, he felt bad for lying to Mrs. Taylor, but all he could think about right then was how much he wanted to apologize to Fiona.

                The apartment was empty, and lit well through the bare windows. It made it even more obvious that the only things left behind were a few pieces of furniture that had come with the apartment, a few boxes near the wall, and a white envelope on the table. Frowning, he crossed the floor, flipping the envelope in his fingers to reveal his name scripted across the other side. Clearing his throat, and peering around, he tore the envelope open, removing the small slip of paper she’d folding inside.

“…Magnus…please don’t come to London to find me. Let me get better. If you still want to yell at me, and be mad at me, in a couple of months, then I can’t really stop you. But now. Right now…please don’t…” he mumbled, reading the letter to himself as he sighed, and shook his head. “I need to focus on getting better, not on if you’ll be showing up at the hospital to get angry…again…” He couldn’t go on. He put the paper back in the envelope, and tucked it into his pocket, shaking his head.

                Fiona had gone to London to get away from him, and to get better. And she didn’t just leave it at that. She was begging him to leave her alone, and what could he do? He couldn’t go after her, not now.

                He had to try to let her go.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

                It wasn’t big apartment – not quite the size of the flat she’d left in Ystad – but it was just right for her. One bedroom, one bathroom, a hall closet, a living room, and a kitchen – just big enough for her to feel comfortable. Fiona’s parents weren’t too thrilled, about her moving into an apartment within the first two weeks of being out of the hospital – they wanted her to stay home, completely recover – but she couldn’t, she had to be on her own.

                She didn’t want them to know how lonely she felt, since leaving Ystad.

Sure, she loved her parents, she loved her brother, but after all was said and done…she missed Magnus. Not that she exactly  _wanted_  to miss him, since he was so sure that she had lied to him, but she did anyway. It was impossible not to miss him.

                As much as she tried to play it off, to make people think she wasn’t lonely, that she didn’t often wonder what it would be like to have someone to go out with again, her parents were well aware something was different about her. She simply didn’t seem as comfortable and “okay” as she insisted she was.

                It was almost five months after she returned to London, a month and a half after she moved into her new flat. Fiona had spent the entire day at an office downtown, trying to help them figure out why their servers kept crashing, and was completely and utterly desperate to come home, and think of anything  _but_  technology.

                But as she drove, and answered an incoming call from her mom, she half-wished she was still working.

“Fiona?”

“Hi, mum…” she smiled.

“Are you still working?” Fiona chuckled, turning the corner and shaking her head.

“No…what’s up?”

“Well, I know you’ve been lonely lately, a-“

“Mum.”

“…and tonight you are going out to dinner with a boy. We’ve set everything up, he’s going to meet you at the restaurant, so you go home and change and everything you want to do, and I’ll text you the address.” For a moment, Fiona was quiet, shaking her head and rolling her eyes, before she took a breath.

“Mum, I swear it, I am fine, I was actually ho-“

“No, darling. Do this for me, and your father. Go out. Have a good time. There isn’t any pressure to see him again if you don’t want to, but just go tonight, alright? Have a drink. You have certainly earned a night out, so please?” Oh, Fiona wanted to argue, she wanted to tell her mother  _no_  and just go home.

                But her mom had a point. At the very least, it was a free drink.

                Sighing, she agreed, finally pulling into her driveway, killing the hum of the engine as she leaned back in the seat.

“Do I get to know his name? Or am I going in blind?” Her mom laughed softly.

“Well, it  _is_  a blind date, sweetheart…” Snickering, Fiona nodded, climbing from the car.

“Alright, alright…just send me the information, I’m going to go get ready,” she replied, making her way into the building.

“Wonderful, sweetheart! I love you.”

“Love you too, mum,” she answered, before hanging up and heading down the hall to her flat.

                A date. A freaking date?! The last time Fiona went on a “first” date it was with Magnus, and it wasn’t as though they didn’t know each other – after all, they had sex the night before, after he jogged her memory. This was someone new, someone she was sure was going to be awful. Not that she didn’t trust her mother, she just…didn’t completely trust her mother’s choices of men for her. After all, the last time her mother set her up, it ended up being with the married son of one of their neighbors.

                She was, admittedly, nervous, as she threw everything out of her closet to try and find something that worked well with the restaurant her mother gave her the address to – a place that was always turned you away if you were not dressed well enough. It was a suit-and-tie, skirt-and-heels sort of place, and it took nearly a half hour to find the right outfit. As long as it took, she was half-expecting to look in the mirror and see something fantastic, rather than the black heels, simple black knee-length skirt, and black and white blouse she had chosen.

                After twisting her hair into light curls, and spritzing them in hopes they would stay throughout dinner, Fiona grabbed her purse and phone, and headed for the car.

                It was such a beautiful place – the lighting was perfect, the staff was all smiling, and the music was gentle, filtering throughout the floor. Fiona’s heart skipped a beat as the waiter seated her at one of the tables near the windows. Her fingers traced along table cloth, rubbing along the bottom of her wine glass, as she waited.

                Startled was the least of what she was when the waiter led her date to the table. He came around from behind her, adjusting his jacket as he lowered himself into his seat. He had fought the urge to slip it off, and hang it from the chair, but he knew better with this place – it was a definite “no”. Sighing, and taking the seat across from her, he slid his glass towards the waiter, watching him pour the wine as he shifted.

“What kind of wine?”

“Moscato,” the waiter answered simply, tilting the bottle back upright, and walking away from the table.

“I see…well, darling, I’m sorry I’m late. I would have been here sooner, but they actually sent me home to change because my belt didn’t match my shoes. I think I spent five minutes staring at the host in disbelief, to be honest,” he chuckled, sipping the wine. Fiona didn’t say a word, staring across the table at him. She was barely breathing, trying to find the right words, before she blinked and shook her head.

“Are you kidding me?” He lifted his eyes, lowering the glass from his lips with a curious brow raise.

“Something the matter?”

“I’m going to head-slap my mother when I get home for this,” she sighed, running a hand down her face.

“For what?” he asked curiously.

“For setting me up, on a ‘blind date’, with  _you_ , Magnus Martinsson.”


	14. Chapter 14

 

                A soft chuckle passed his lips as he pushed his glass away, and leaned against the table.

“Oh, come on, Fiona.”

“No…no, I’m…I may have missed you, but I’m still upset,” she said, shaking her head as she slid her chair back, grabbed her purse, and scooted off.

“No, wait, Fi, come on.” He pushed the chair back, and stood, as well, stopping only when the waiter stepped in front of him.

“You can’t leave, without paying for the wine.”

“Are you joking?” Magnus scoffed, frowning and knitting his brow together. But the waiter wasn’t flinching, and, with a grumbled swear, Magnus thrust a bill into his hand, pushing him out of the way as he raced to follow Fiona.

                Her hands dug through her purse, trying to find the keys, as she rounded the corner to get her car. She wasn’t waiting for anything, she just wanted to go home. But she could hear him, running across the cobblestone as he caught up with her.

“Fiona, wait.”

“You accused me of lying to you, Magnus, and then you wouldn’t answer my call.”

“Because I didn’t want to be angry!” he exclaimed, getting ahead of her and turning to face her. Fiona stumbled, and sighed, taking a step back as her heel clicked on the stone.

“You didn’t want to be angry, but you came to the hospital, while I was  _fresh_  out of surgery, to accuse me?”

“I didn’t intend to, Fi, I just wanted to ask why you never told me.”

“Because he was an abusive piece of shit that I divorced after the first time he laid a hand on me. And I wasn’t ready to bring it up. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I wanted him completely out of my life, so I was not  _yet_  ready to bring it up.”

                That made Magnus frown, and he lowered his head, sighing. He had read what Christian had been arrested for, the one thing that put him in their system – domestic abuse – and Christian had said she filed five months before the shootings. He just hadn’t put it together, not she said it.

“…Fi…”

“Magnus, listen to me,” she sighed, letting her purse hang off her shoulder as she hooked the key ring off her middle finger. “We were only together two months…but if I had been _married_  when we started dating, well…we wouldn’t have been dating. I may be a lot of things, but a cheater is not one of them,” Fiona assured him, shaking her head.

“I know that. I do. I just…it caught me off guard, though, Fi.”

“I  _never_  lied to you, Magnus. Not once. And you know, I would have faced you, told you everything you wanted to know, but…when you asked why I never told you I was married, and followed it instantly by telling me my  _husband_  is the one who shot me…I just wanted to argue with you, I didn’t want to be understanding, or forgiving. I really wanted to clock you, to be honest.” That made him chuckle as he nodded, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah…yeah, when he said  _you_  filed for divorce during interrogation…I looked at the file on the computer again…and realized it said  _ex_ …I don’t know how I missed that but…”

“Let me guess…you felt like such a tit?”

“Yep…”

“Do that a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes I do,” he agreed, as she stepped around him, opened her car door, and dropped her purse in the backseat.

“Magnus…”

“Fi, listen…” He followed her, and took a step closer as she turned, making her step back and pinning her against the car. “I blame everything that happened on my job. I truly do.”

“What?” she asked, confused, frowning.

“If I hadn’t left you at the club that night for work, and had to work through the night, you wouldn’t have woken up alone, you wouldn’t have gone out to visit the bakery for me…” Fiona’s face softened as she saw that look in his eyes, the guilt, and she reached her hands up to cup his cheeks.

“Magnus, stop that. The only person to blame is the one who put the bullet in me, and he is locked up. You know, if you hadn’t come into the hospital, and started questioning about being married  _right after_  I woke up…if you had waited until I was at least able to sit up, I wouldn’t have left like I did.”

                Magnus pressed his hands against the car on either side of her, meeting her gaze as she looked at him, almost apologetically. Sure, he had spent the past five months trying to stop feeling guilty, and trying to find a way to apologize to her as best he could. He didn’t expect her to let him be so close to her, let alone to have put her hands on him.

“Are you angry at me, for being tactless?” he asked softly, as she sighed, and lowered her head.

“I was. I wanted to be still. But…” That sounded good – he couldn’t help but smile a little. “…it’s lonely, being by yourself again. I enjoyed the time I got with you…”

“I enjoyed it too, Fi…”

“You need to know, that I was hurt that you would accuse me of lying to you about being married. I explained why I was distant with you the day before I got shot, it had nothing to do with me being married, or divorced…”

“I know, I know, I just, I hadn’t ex-“

“Please let me finish,” Fiona spoke softly, raising her head to see him. “You need to know that I really didn’t want to see you…that I hoped you would let me go. I would have been miserable, most likely, for a few months…but I’m a big girl, I could get over it.”

                A tingle ran down his spine, and his eyes fell shut, as she rubbed her thumbs against his cheeks, beneath his eyes, and scratched her fingertips against his ear. She couldn’t help but smile softly as she tilted her head, and released a slow, soft breath.

“But then I looked at myself in the mirror, while getting ready for tonight…and I thought of you…” He opened his eyes, brow braised, curious.

“Why?”

“Because I have a scar from where Christian shot me…and I am so  _conflicted_  by it, because I thought of you, the way you looked at me when you came into my room, and then I felt so ugly marred by it, and…” Color filled his cheeks as she looked down at herself, and he moved a hand from the car, catching her chin to lift her face.

“There’s nothing about you that I don’t find attractive, Fi…I love everything about you.” A soft chuckle passed her lips, and she shook her head as she drummed her fingers, ever so gently, along the sides of his head.

“I know…because the minute I saw myself, I knew you wouldn’t focus on it…how could I know that? We only dated for a few months.” He chuckled softly, sliding his fingers gently across her jaw, and into her hair, watching her face flush.

“Because you loved me.” She lowered her eyes, sighing.

“Magnus…”

“Didn’t you?” he prodded softly, as she lowered her hands to his shoulders, and carefully stepped away. “Fiona?”

“Come on, Magnus…” she replied, trying to get him to stop asking.

“Fi, please…” he begged.

“Yes. Yes, Magnus, I love you, but I just  _can’t_  love you, I don’t…I am no good with distance, and Ystad is too far away for me to…to try to love you.” Furrowing his brow, Magnus put his hands to his sides, adjusting his jacket as he stepped closer to her.

“Good thing I quit my job and moved out here, then.”


	15. Chapter 15

 

Her eyes went wide, and she twisted around to see him, the surprise completely evident on her face. Moved? Quit? She couldn’t decide which part she wanted ask on first, so instead, she stared at him, gaping as she tried to order her thoughts. With a sigh, Magnus pushed his hand through his curls, and looked around.

“Fi…”

“ _Quit_? Are you out of your mind? You loved that job!”

“I love  _you_ , Fi. It was  _just_  a job, I can get another job out here. But you…I almost lost you twice, I’m not doing it again.”

“Magnus…” She took a breath, shaking her head, before raising a brow and meeting his gaze. “What if I told you no? That I didn’t love you?”

“Then I’d find an apartment, and find something else to do with my life…or convince you that you do, because come on, you know you do.” That made her laugh, and shake her head again.

“You are out of your mind.”

“I know it.”

“So let me get this straight. You quit your job. You moved to London. And you had no idea whether or not I would reciprocate. Right?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you  _out of your mind_?”

“Do you know  _any_  other questions?” She bit her lip, as he snickered at her, before rolling her shoulders a little.

“How did you find me?”

                The sheepishness filled his eyes as he shrugged, and shifted a little, chuckling softly. It was almost a silly question, asking how he found her, and she moved closer, pushing her finger against his abdomen.

“Magnus Martinsson, did you look us up at  _work_?”

“Well…sort of? I actually got your  _address_  – or, your folks’ address – when you moved. Your landlord gave it to me, when I promised to ship your boxes.”

                A laugh passed her lips as she shook her head once more, and pushed her hand against his side. As much as she wanted him to leave her be, let her heal on her own, she had to admit, she expected him to try  _something_.  

“Fiona.”

“Magnus.”

“Do you love me?”

“…yes…” she admitted, her word carried only on a faint breath.

“Do you forgive me?” Her eyes lifted to meet his hopeful gaze, and her face flushed lightly.

“…yes.”

“Do you like the idea of me staying in a hotel until I find my own flat?” It was unstoppable, the snort that sounded as she began to laugh, and she covered her mouth with her free hand as she shook her head.

“How  _out of your mind_  are you? If you needed a place to stay, you could have asked…I  _do_ have a spare room,” she teased, whimpering softly as his hand found her cheek, and his lips covered hers in a gentle and sweet kiss.

“Fi,” he murmured, nudging his nose against hers as he pulled back, hearing her trying to catch her breath.

“Magnus…”

“Do you mean that?”

“No.” He pulled back, confused, as she opened her eyes and smiled. “You can’t stay in the spare room.”

“Fi?”

“I don’t have a  _spare_  room, but you can stay in  _my_  room.” He snorted, and kissed her forehead, shaking his head.

“Tease.”

“Haven’t I always been?”

                Cupping his hands on either sides of her face, Magnus tilted her head up, and brought his lips so near to hers she could almost taste him, but he didn’t close the gap as his eyes fluttered, and he breathed slowly, trying to control himself.

“Is it really alright with you?”

“Yes. I don’t like being alone…and I hated the idea that I might not see you again…I missed you, more than I wanted to, and loved you, probably more than I should…but that is beside the point. I missed you, and I love you, and I want you here, with me…just ….” she told him, closing her eyes as she fought the urge to try and close the gap.

“Just what?”

“Love me.”

                At that, Magnus closed the gap, wrapping his arms around her and holding her body close to his, smiling at the feeling of her arms lacing around his waist, beneath his jacket. His fingers trailed across her arm, down her side, and to her stomach, where he parted his lips slightly from hers as she flinched at the touch.

“Every part of you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He dotted another kiss to her lips, before smiling, and pulling back. “Come on…let’s get out of here.”

“Wait.”

“What?” he asked, as her hands pressed against his back to keep him near her. A sheepish smile formed on her lips, and she glanced towards the building beside them.

“Can we  _please_  go somewhere for a bite? I’m  _starving_ , and you  _do_  owe me a dinner.”


	16. Chapter 16

 

                The only light in the apartment was from the fixture just inside the door, barely illuminating the hall in a faded yellow light. Fiona slipped around the door, letting Magnus into the apartment before she closed the door, and flicked the switch to light the kitchen.

“…much smaller than your last place.” Chuckling, Fiona nodded, and glanced back at him.

“I know. Only one bedroom, too…which is why I don’t have a guest room. I do have a fold-out couch, though, if you decide you don’t want to share my room.” Magnus shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, and hung it from the back of kitchen chair as he turned to see her.

“If you’ll let me, Fi, I’ll be happy to share the room with you.”

                It was quiet, for a moment, as she bit her bottom lip, and peered over her shoulder towards him. How could they be apart for six months, without any contact in any way, and the first time they took a chance, had a moment to look at each other, talk to each other, it was like nothing changed?  And it wasn’t as though she was complaining. She  _had_  missed him, but now that she was with him, she realized just how much.

From across the kitchen, Magnus was watching her, stunned that the biggest change from the last time they were together was how  _together_  she seemed. She had been a worried mess last time, afraid she would lose him, and here they were, back in her apartment, and she wasn’t angry, wasn’t upset. She was smiling, just a bit, watching him, but he lowered his head and chuckled as she took a breath, and turned to face him.

“Magnus.”

“Yeah?”

“…how in the world…did you get my mum to set up this blind date?” He snorted, and covered his mouth as he snickered and shook his head.

“Well…it wasn’t my suggestion, to be honest.” She furrowed her brow, tilting her head, and moved a few steps closer to him.

“What?” Magnus pulled the chair out for her, reaching for her hand to guide her into the seat. It made him smile when her hand met his, and once she sat down, he pulled up a chair beside her, shrugging.

“When I looked you up on the computers at the station, I called the number listed for your mum, and after a stern lecture from your father for the way I handled myself at the hospital,” he started, brow raised, as Fiona blushed and turned her head to avoid meeting his gaze. It was one of the first things she’d done, when she was with her parents again – she ranted about the way he brought up her marriage, with such irritation. She just didn’t expect her dad to use it. “…he put your mom on the phone. And she asked if I missed you, if I cared about you, put me through the ringer to make sure I wasn’t just saying it.” Blushing and chuckling, she leaned forward a little in the chair, reaching down to touch his hands. “It was her idea, to have me come out…said you wouldn’t suspect if she set it up as a date…”

“She was right,” Fiona said softly, shaking her head. It sounded just like her mother, trying to take Fiona’s happiness into her own hands, no matter how off-the-mark she had been in the past. She’d lost count of how many dates her mom tried to set her up on that failed, miserably, in one way or the other.

                But this time, as Fiona scooted her chair a little closer to his, she knew her mom did right.

“Magnus.”

“Hm?” he asked softly, sliding his hands over hers as she rested her forearms on her legs, and leaned towards him.

“I think this blind date is going to end better than our last one…              “

“How so?” Magnus replied, as her fingers brushed his wrists.

“I have your number already in my phone – correctly, might I add. I didn’t let you leave me tonight…or…really,  _you_  didn’t let  _me_  leave tonight, you came home with me…and if you were planning to stay in a hotel somewhere, then I know you don’t have anywhere to stay…” A smirk formed in the corner of his mouth as he raised his eyes to meet hers. “…meaning I don’t have to give you up. I have the next couple days off…you just popped in after quitting yours. You’re mine.”

“For as long as you want me around, at least,” he snickered, letting his eyes fall shut as she leaned forward, clasping her hands on either side of his head, and pressed her lips roughly against his. It only took a second before his hands slid up her thighs, pulling her into his lap. She parted, just enough, to run her fingers through her curls as she nudged her nose against his.

“I love you, Magnus…I’m so sorry for leaving like I did…”

“I deserved it…I love you too, Fi, but I totally deserved it.”

“I know,” she teased, making him laugh as he wrapped his arms around her back, and pressed her against him.

“I’ll give you the choice – here, the living room, or the bedroom?” Even if she didn’t see him quirk his brow, the lust in his voice was enough to tell her what he was talking about, and, wriggling against his lap, she put her feet on the floor, and stood.

“Bedroom. You owe me a  _really_  good night.” He certainly didn’t need convincing, pushing himself from the chair as she tossed her heels into the living room. Her feet scuffed lightly against the floor, and a soft giggle passed her lips as he thumped up behind her, hooked his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck.

“It will be your pleasure, darling,” he purred, nudging the door closed behind them.


	17. Epilogue

 

               The one year lease Fiona had on her flat in London couldn’t have gone up soon enough – after all, having her and Magnus’ entire lives crammed into that flat was not an easy feat. Of course, it wasn’t easy trying to agree on a place to move to as the deadline grew closer, either. She wanted to stay in London, to be near her family, but Magnus wanted to try somewhere else. He even suggested Gloucester, only a couple hours’ drive from London.

                A week before the lease was up, the couple sat on the couch, scrolling through pages of places, her feet across his lap, both of them on their own computers. Every so often, he’d start to tell her about a place, only to be stopped by her finger pressing into his shoulder, and a raised brow.

“Where is it?”

“…Gloucester.”

“Magnus.”

“Sorry.”

                It bugged him, just a little, that she wasn’t even willing to talk about it. It wasn’t as though Gloucester was that far from her family, and after all, she had lived in  _Ystad_  for several years. But she had been acting a bit strangely for a few weeks, and the only thing he wanted at this point was for her to be happy.

                His eyes moved off his screen, finally, and he watched her scroll, a small smile on his face. She may have been acting different lately, but he loved her, and despite the flannel pajama pants, wrinkled black and gray top, and messy bun she’d pulled her hair in, she looked perfect. Chuckling softly, he rubbed his hand against her thigh, and looked back at his computer.

“I love you, Fi.”

“…I love you too, Magnus,” Fiona replied softly, lifting her eyes to see him, and smiling lightly. His curls were a bit limp around his head – they hadn’t been up too terribly long – but she always thought it was cute, when he had bedhead.

                Shifting, Magnus moved his computer to the coffee table, before doing the same with hers, and scooting along the couch to lie beside her. A laugh passed her lips, as she shifted down, and nestled her head against his shoulder.

“We should be searching for a place, Magnus,” she said softly, as his lips brushed her cheek, his fingers pressing lightly against her back to pull her closer.

“I know…but we can take a few minutes and just lie here, can’t we?” he asked, as she smiled and nodded.

“Yeah…we can do that.”

Smirking, Magnus bowed his head, pressing a light kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned back, resting her head on the arm of the couch as he nudged her legs apart, slipping his knee between them. Her fingers delved into his curls as he shifted, climbing on top of her with a smirk on his lips.

As he wriggled between her thighs, and rocked his hips against hers, Fiona hooked her hands around the back of his neck, hooking her legs around his. His fingers trailed over her cheek, and pushed her hair off her face, pulling back just a little to dust a kiss on her forehead. Raising a brow and smiling up at him, Fiona cupped his face in her hands, and guided him back down for another kiss.

“Fi?” he whispered, nudging her nose with his. She reopened her eyes, shifting slightly and smiling up at him.

“Yeah?”

“…I love you.”

“I love you too, Magnus…” Magnus moved a little, pushing his knees against the couch as he pulled his hands away from her.

“Can I ask you something?” Fiona let out a slow, shaky breath, closing her eyes at the knot in her stomach.

“…okay…?” Despite her answer, Fiona was only partially listening, biting down upon her bottom lip as the feeling in her stomach began to rise, and she swallowed hard, shifting back from him.

“Fi…” His hand moved out of his pocket, clutching a small box in his hands, as he raised his eyes to see her. “…would you marry m-“

That last word never made it out, as Fiona scrambled from the couch, hands clamped over her mouth. Her foot struck his thigh, knocking him backwards as she raced towards the bathroom. Magnus let go of the box, grabbing his crotch – so near where she hit him – as he fell back on the couch. Swears flooded past his lips, and he grumbled sharply as he rolled onto the floor, trying to catch his breath.

“A  _no_  would have sufficed, Fi, you didn’t have to  _kick_ me and run,” he growled, shaking his head and rubbing a hand against himself lightly. He was actually really glad she didn’t kick him any further to the left – he would be have been angry in a higher pitch if she had. As he climbed to his feet, and yanked the ring off the floor, he heard the flushing from down the hall, and scowled, stepping into the hallway. After a moment, she stepped out, too, a towel in her hands, dabbing at her lips.

“…sorry, Magnus…” she murmured softly, shaking her head a bit sheepishly.

“It’s alright,” Magnus answered, moving into the kitchen as he shook his head. Furrowing her brow, Fiona followed, and shook her head.

“Magnus?”

“I said it’s okay.”

“No it isn’t – Magnus, I’m  _sorry¸_ I didn’t really want to  _throw up_ on you.”

                He turned, brow raised, as she lowered the towel, and stared at him from the doorway.

“What?”

“I had to throw up, I didn’t want to do that in the living room…did you  _miss_  the gagging?” she asked softly, shrugging and frowning. Magnus sighed, and crossed the floor, wrapping his arms around her.

“Are you alright, Fi?”

“I’m fine…”

“Fine people don’t just randomly throw up – was it me? Did I make you nervous? I put you on the spot, didn’t I?” he asked, frowning as she chuckled, and shook her head.

“Magnus, Magnus, stop, I mean it. I’m fine…” He lowered his eyes to meet hers, no longer upset with her reaction, but instead, concerned. She was a little pale, but pushed herself up to kiss his cheek. “I promise.”

“…Fi, I don’t want to doubt you, but…I kind of doubt you.”

“I knew you were going to say that…”

“You’ve been acting strange a  _lot_  lately…” Even though she began to frown, she knew he was right, and she sighed softly, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“You mean with wanting to stay in London.”

“That’s part of it. What’s going on?”

                His eyes fluttered when she kissed his chest, his shoulder, his neck, before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and hugged him tightly. Sighing softly, he hooked both his hands around her waist, tilting his head to press a light kiss to her cheek.  He trailed his lips across her skin, his fingers catching her chin to turn her towards him, feeling her body trembling ever-so-lightly at his touch. Before he could press his lips to hers, though, she parted her lips, and closed her eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

                That made him freeze, eyes wide, trying to register what she’d said.

                Pregnant?

                 _Pregnant_?

                After a second, Fiona took a step back, biting her bottom lip, looking at him with a furrowed brow, fear in her eyes. He searched her face, her eyes, for some sign that she was joking, but when the only change was her looking away and lowering her hands from his shoulders, he gulped, and touched her hip.

“Pr…pr-… _pregnant_?”

“…yes…” Her voice was soft, her shoulders slumped forward, and he sighed, shaking his head quickly.

“Oh, Fi…how long have you known?”

“A couple of weeks, I just didn’t know how to tell you…maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” she sighed, placing her hands over her face as she took a step away from him.

“No, no, wait, now…that was the last thing I expected, but I’m glad you told me. I mean…Fi, look at me.” It took her a moment – and a bit of prodding from him, his hands gripping her wrists – before she finally met his gaze, and let out a relieved breath at the look in his eyes. “When you ran out earlier, when you kicked me, I…I was trying to say something pretty important.”

“…how important?” she asked softly, her eyes dropping as he reached back into his pocket.

“Considering it was asking you to stay with me for the rest of our lives? Pretty important.” She paled more than she already was, as the box appeared in his hand, and he cracked it open for her.

“Magnus?”

“Marry me, Fi?”

“Yes,” she breathed, throwing her arms around his shoulders and planting a kiss on his lips. Grinning, he nudged her nose, shifting to slide the ring onto her fingers.

“God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Magnus…and listen, I’m sorry…I’m sorry I shot you down for Gloucester, I just…I wanted to be near my mum, with this pregnancy thing…but if you really, really want to go there, if you really like it better, we can go, I’d go  _anywhere_  with you…” she said, quickly but softly, between kisses to his cheek and lips. Magnus, with a chuckle, pulled her against his chest, and dotted a light kiss on her neck.

“We’ll stay in London, at least until after the baby comes…and then decide from there. I’m not about to pull you away from your  _mum_  during something like this.”

“I love you, Magnus Martinsson.”

“I love you too, Fiona Langston…now come on…let’s get back to looking.”


End file.
